Betrayed
by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP
Summary: He had been cautious all of his life, but as his world slowly starts to come back to him, Arthur's mind races with who set him up. His wrist tugs on the handcuff attaching him to the rusted radiator as he watches a male figure finally come into focus and he stares at his would be betrayer in shock? Eames? CHAP 22 UP NOW
1. Whispers & Lies

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 1 – Whispers and Lies **

**Summary:** **REPOST** He had been cautious all of his life, but as his world slowly starts to come back to him, Arthur's mind races with who set him up. His wrist tugs on the handcuff attaching him to the rusted radiator as he watches a male figure finally come into focus and he stares at his would be betrayer in shock? Eames?

**Disclaimer: **Anything that is related to Inception is the property of the amazingly brilliant (read genius) Chris Nolan and sadly not me!

**A/N:** Okay so am reposting this story. I really want to thank everyone who liked the original version (and your feedback in giving me the confidence to repost) but I felt it was too rushed so instead of redoing every chapter am starting fresh and adding things and will be stretching things out and developing the story more and hope that's okay. It's always a risk to do this (ask any author) but hope it works. This is a new fandom for me so that's also very scary b/c I love the characters and hope I have them in character for the most part and as we remember! I loved the on-screen bickering/banter/chemistry between Arthur and Eames as I'm sure you all did. So am gonna take a deep breath and hope you like this offering.

**Thanks to Kiyoshi Takeshi Raiden **for the discussion. Hope I did this redo some justice.

* * *

_"Welcome back darling."_

_The familiar husky voice registers in his throbbing brain as Arthur's eyes slowly open and try to focus on the figure crouched down before him; gun in hand. Arthur's angry dark gaze finally registers the warm blue orbs before him seconds before they narrow in contempt. Had he been able to actually get words past the damp cloth drawn tightly between his lips he could have cursed the person before him. But all he could do was helplessly tug on the cuffs keeping him trapped to the rusted radiator and wonder if it was Eames who had betrayed him or if he was there to free him?_

XXXXXXXX

Ever since he was a small boy Arthur had learned not to trust those around him; his birth parents teaching him the meaning of betrayal with their very first act – something he was old enough to understand and something that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Only Cobb knew the truth about his childhood; Mal eventually figuring it out and the two of the only ones on the team and that's how he was determined to keep it.

Since the moment he was abandoned by this birth parents, he had come to learn that the only person he could trust and rely on was himself; the bulk of his life being spent physically alone and emotionally detached from those around him; telling himself it was safer and less complicated. You don't love – you don't hurt. The day he met Dominic Cobb was the day his walls started to weaken a little; the charismatic extractor and this then wife Mal, readily accepting him into their tightly knit family circle with open arms. But even then he remained guarded; never allowing either Cobb or his wife to delve into him enough so that he'd feel his walls starting to crumble. No one would ever have the strength to push down his walls, peer inside and then help him rebuild them.

The job over and the team back on American soil; it was now time for some muchly needed downtime. He stands by the luggage carousel in the Los Angeles airport and glances to his right; looking at a male figure a few feet away and offering a small smirk at his glib comeback to some female passerby before looking back at the baggage turnabout, his mind starting to wander. _Eames. _He inwardly chuckles at their very first meeting some time ago; a first impression lasting a lifetime.

_'Arthur right? Well love when you decide to pull the pole out of your ass let me know. Life's a lot funner if you can breathe normally.'_

_'More fun.'_

_'Funner,' Eames had playfully argued back, his blue eyes seeming to sparkle brighter with the knowledge that he found someone who actually didn't bow to his old world charm and had the balls to argue back – and quite successfully at times._

_It was only when Arthur found himself muttering the word 'funner' in disdain did Eames chortle and slap him on the back._ _'There you go darling…now how about we go and have that drink and toast you coming back down to earth with the rest of us mere mortals.'_

But it was the playful banter and brotherly protective concern that Eames displayed toward him from that moment on that for the first time in years forced him inside to feel a sense of longing, yearning even; almost allowing himself to dare to dream about what it would be like to have belonged to a proper family with an older sibling. One that actually gave a damn about your wellbeing instead of would be sympathizers preying upon your every weakness and sucking the very imaginative life out of you from a very early age.

_'Come now Arthur, do tell…who stole your imagination from you.'_

_'I'll leave the flights of fancy to you Eames. You're just a part of the job, I make it a success,' he had boasted with an exasperated huff; something to which Eames was amused at instead of angered with. The Englishmen's calm exterior always something that infuriated Arthur but at the same time forced him to admire and rally to the challenge that Eames always delighted in presenting the younger man. _

Eames, however, was also a master of manipulation and Arthur had to quickly remind himself that the forger was still dangerous to his highly protected walls and that he couldn't be trusted to peer inside for even a few brief seconds; no matter the skilled questions. That's why Arthur always made sure that Eames was never around when he went into his own personal dreamscape – it was safer for him that way.

He catches a wink from Eames and turns back, his bags finally arriving and allowing him to collect his luggage and be on his way.

"Tell me darling where are we off to in a hurry hmmm?"

"Have to return an overdue library book," Arthur replies with a sharp grin as he slings his garment bag over his shoulder and reaches for his briefcase.

"You know you're the only one that each time I ask after a job ends gives me rather interesting reply but one that's certainly a lie. Do tell? Lady friend perhaps?"

"Safe flight back to Mobassa Eames. Until next time," Arthur concludes with an endearing but somewhat strained smile; a small gesture of nervousness that is not lost on the forger's always inquisitive mind.

Eames watches Arthur's rather tense frame slowly meander through the crowds toward the exit and feels himself wanting to give in to his innate curious nature. All his life, right from a small boy he'd been fascinated with people – watching, observing, studying and finally copying. Getting their traits, mannerisms, habits, patterns and characteristics down so pat that in the dream world he could become an entirely different person or sex if he wanted and pull it off with perfection. But right from day one Arthur had always intrigued him.

_'What's his story Cobb? The smartly dressed one over there. You sure you can trust him?'_

_'I trust him like I trust myself Eames. Arthur is the best point man there is and a close friend. Treat him well. Like a brother.'_

_'Oh don't worry, I intend to, when I figure him out.'_

But while the others would let slip inner feelings by either emotion or word; Arthur was careful about everything. At first Eames just labeled him an anal-retentive SOB without an ounce of imagination or the ability to just let his hair down as it were and invite everyone around him into his inner sphere. Only Cobb knew personal things about Arthur but it would be like pulling teeth from a snapping dragon before the protective extractor would reveal anything. It was Arthur's life and his job to do that, Cobb had reminded him one time.

_'You want to know about Arthur, you'll have to do the work Eames.'_

As Eames follows Arthur at a discreet distance his mind wonders where the young man could be headed. _Library my ass, _he inwardly chuckled after Arthur's rather lame but deceitful comeback. But it's not until he notices Arthur heading for the domestic departures gate that his mind starts to work overtime. Domestic? He's not heading back to Paris? What else would keep the point man on American soil longer than intended? Or who? As much as he wanted to turn and head for his own flight and seemingly dull life to get back to and another routine blackjack game; inner curiosity got the best of him and without much mental resistance finds himself heading for the ticket counter and getting a ticket to…

"Your ticket to New York Sir."

"Right, thank you," Eames replies as he looks at the piece of paper in his grasp before proceeding. "Dear Arthur…what secrets are you keeping from us?"

XXXXXXXX

_'Hey Arthur…you daydreaming again? What's the point of having an imagination in a place like this! Dreams don't come true! You should know that. Dreams die here and if you're not careful you will to!'_

Arthur's body jerks awake with the small bit of turbulence, his mind being roughly pulled from his sordid thoughts from his childhood; his hands rubbing his face as he settles back into his seat, staring out the window absently and not realizing that he was being watched.

_'Live a good long life Arthur and keep out of trouble. You have sharp wits about you and a keen sense. Use those to your advantage. But when you get the chance come back and drop by for a coffee or even a hug. You know my door is always open to you. But just be careful out there. If people can take advantage of you in any way they will.'_

He feels his stomach tighten as he recalls several sets of narrowed eyes watching him with disdain.

_'You want to go where? Paris? Maybe you do still dream! As if you'll ever get there! As if anything that came from here would amount to anything. You remember who you really are! No one!'_

He had shouted back something along the lines of a curse and had vowed in that second to make himself into something better – if not for the sole purpose of showing them up. That time was now. He now feels inside he could return to his tormented childhood, head held high and show those pesky naysayers that he did make something of himself; if they'd even be there. _Besides…I dress better now, _his enjoys a small silent joke, the man next to him arching a brow as Arthur nods and then looks away with a small frown; Eames watching in wonder.

_Come now Arthur…what is going on love? Who are you going to see? _Eames mind had pondered as he watches Arthur's facial expressions tease the plane between happiness and outright anger. It wasn't the man next to him, as irritating as he could imagine it would be stuck beside the ill-mannered sod the entire flight; but something else. What else? Maybe a someone else? Unlike Cobb, who talked about Mal at every opportunity, Arthur was always carefully guarded with talk about his past or even present relationships.

_'You ever met Arthur's parents?' _He had asked Cobb at one time; the extractor giving him a small nod but then quickly changing the subject into something a bit tenser and all light hearted conversation instantly faded. _Course he has family…everyone has family…right?_

Giving a nervous glance back, Arthur collects his things and heads for the nearest NYC yellow cab, climbs in the back and offers his destination to the waiting cabbie; Eames getting into the cab behind and saying with a small smirk "follow that cab."

_'When were you back last?' Cobb had asked when they had a private moment alone back in Paris._

_'A few years…a bit longer.'_

_'You're about due. After this. Go and see Garth. He'll want to see you again. You need to do this Arthur. For you.'_

He leans his head back on the seat of the cab and allows his mind to try to get his inner anxiety to lessen.

_'Mustn't be afraid dream a little bigger darling,' _his lips slightly twitch upward as Eames iconic phrase dances in his weary brain. That coupled with his concern in the hotel room, for a few seconds, made him actually consider telling Eames his plans; wanting even a smart comeback to make himself feel a part of something bigger than him. Family perhaps? _Why would Eames care? The job is over…he goes back to his world and I to mine – alone._

"Better this way," Arthur mumbles to himself as he straightens up. He casts a dark gaze out the window, catching his worried reflection in the clear windowpane for a few seconds and wonders how the reunion will turn out. Would his former tormentors actually be around? Surely they've moved on also? All adults move on right? But as he enters the less than reputable part of town, he tosses aside his reunion worries and wonders if he shouldn't have told Eames even in passing where he was going just for safety's sake alone. What if something were to happen? No one would ever have any idea that he was missing until it was too late.

"This the right place?" The cabbie asks with a small snort; Eames instructing his driver to stop a few car lengths back as he gets out and then heads into a shadowed alcove to watch.

"Yes. Thanks," Arthur nods as he pulls out a few bucks, pays the driver and then slowly gets out, standing on the curb in the seedy neighbourhood and looking down the street with a heavy frown.

"Hey pretty boy!" Someone calls out, Eames attention snapping back to reality as he turns back to see a rather gruff looking man slowly heading toward Arthur. "You lost?"

"No I'm found. You looking for trouble?" Arthur asks pointedly; his contrived gruff tone always making Eames somewhat amused. No matter how mad Arthur tried to come across, his slick attire and rather innocent boyish expression always made him seem a less than formidable enemy. One on one he knows Arthur could handle himself; especially since he knows he's packing – something. However, if he attracted trouble and more came to the other's aide; things could get sticky and fast. Thankfully the man takes the hint and continues on his way; Eames relieved he didn't have to reveal himself to the point man this early in the game. In fact he hopes to only gain a small bit of insider info on the elusive point man and then catch the next plane out.

"Guess not," the man shrugs as he carries on; Arthur's anxiety building as he heads toward the somewhat rundown building and disappears inside.

Eames removes himself from his rather clever hiding place and heads toward the front of the building; still remaining on the opposite side of the street – wanting to keep a careful distance incase Arthur suddenly appears and he has to explain his very out of place appearance. "What are you up to in that place?" Eames muses as he rests against a darkened door and stares at the building across the street. "Who's in there that would make you fly across the country? What are you hiding from us all Arthur?"

As soon as Arthur steps inside his mind thinks back to that night so many years ago.

_'Mom, what's going on? Why are we here?'_

_'Your father and I have to go away and since we are both only children there is no one else you can stay with. You'll like it here.'_

_'You're coming back right?'_

_'We'll see you sooner than you think. You be on your best behavior now. We'll be back soon.'_

"But you never came back," Arthur whispers as his jaw tightens and his core warms; his mind desperate to push away the tormented childhood memory and get on with the task at hand. He knocks lightly on the door and then pulls it open and steps into the familiar office.

"Arthur? My boy is that really you?"

"Garth," Arthur offers a warm hug to the older man before pulling back a few seconds later.

"Not that I'm not happy, but what brings you back here after all these years?"

"You said your door is always open and I was in town for a few days," Arthur adds with a small lie, not wanting to tip his hand entirely. "How are things?"

"A struggle as always. You look as though you've done quite well."

"Ah window dressing," Arthur replies modestly as he eases himself down into a chair at Garth's direction. "I really wanted to know how things are here? Could you use a little help?"

"You mean with physical work on this place? Ah that's just window dressing," Garth smiles as Arthur's lips twitch into a small smirk. "Could always use a hand with that. Wow…this really is a surprise. How have you been?"

"Doing well. Busy."

"What do you do for work these days?"

"Business. Boring stuff."

"Boring? Never figured you'd take a boring job. Always figured take something grand. Follow your dreams and all that."

"Dreams?" Arthur arches his brows in wonder.

"You did dream at one time. You don't anymore? I find that hard to believe."

"I know someone who might argue with you on that point," Arthur retorts with a small smirk.

"You having dreams? You're darn right I'd argue."

"I have been told that I lack imagination."

"By who? A new friend? Ah I take it by that cryptic smile it is a new friend?"

"Actually…he gets on my nerves most of the time," Arthur smirks as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "But he is under the very strict impression I don't know how to dream or if I do its mostly boring."

"You used to dream and dream big. Maybe part of you losing that was my fault," Garth offers in a quiet tone as his expression clouds and Arthur's countenance instantly sinks.

"Garth I didn't mean to imply…"

"This is hardly the place for dreams to flourish. I don't fault you at all for losing most of that. You had dreams at one time. This place changed you and for that I apologize if it affects you now."

"Dreaming isn't what it used to be," Arthur mutters under his breath. "I guess I had to grow up sometime right?"

"It's not a bad thing. But you were always very…structured," Garth answers honestly before the older man's face breaks into a small frown. "I think most of the others envied that. They were always all over the place and I can see how it's affected you for the better and them for the worse even now. But am glad you're back. You came for the fundraiser?"

"No…what? Fundraiser?"

"I had put in an ad i…wait isn't that why you're here?"

"No I really was just…what ad?"

"Wanted to have an open house to get some extra funding from the city. Happens in a few days so we have some work to do first. Things are tough these days and they want to shut this place down. But this is the only place some boys have you know? So if we can make it look respectable then maybe we can get a few extra bucks to help out. I'm sorry I thought you heard. But no matter, you're here now and it's great to see you. Come on…let me show you to your old room. Unless…you are staying at some fancy five star hotel?"

"I'll stay here," Arthur replies with a friendly smile as he collects his things. "Is Ricks Corner Mart still open?"

"It sure is. Why not have a walk down there after you're settled? I have a few things to tend to and then I was going to pour myself something strong to drink which should be just about the time you get back. Shall I add a glass and we'll catch up on old times?"

"Sounds good."

Eames eyes keep fixed on the rather shabby looking establishment and could only guess as to why Arthur was lingering. _Surely he's not planning on staying in there? Heavens Arthur your fine taste is slipping I see, _his mind muses as he dares to leave his hiding spot and head across the street, having left his suitcase carefully hidden in the shadows a few feet from where he was standing. _Come on darling…what are you up to? Did you lose a bet? Hmm you know I'm the only one you should be losing a bet to._

He casually walks toward the front entrance, his mind trying to piece together reasons as to why elusive Arthur would be lingering in such a place. _What do you know about Arthur's family Cobb? Ask him yourself Eames. _And that was it. Always wondering but never being satisfied with just a few musings, mostly of his own doing and Arthur of course never telling anything. He had at one point considered drugging him and entering his mind but didn't want to betray his trust and so kept pushing. Each time Arthur would make up an excuse and the conversation would drop. Eames watches two rather surly looking men near the building and falls back; ducking into a closed store's entranceway and slipping out of sight but well within earshot only a few meters away.

The conversation between the two men is chipped at best, each of them offering only short answers, mostly about some ad in the paper, a fundraiser and if anyone one from the good old days would be back and if anyone they liked or hated.

But as soon as he hears the conversation come to a sudden stop, his curiosity once again seizes him and he dares to peer around the corner from his hiding place and watch as a familiar face steps into view; his brow instantly furrowing. _Hmm no suitcase. Is he really staying there? Arthur, love what's going on? _But he wouldn't have to wait too much longer for his answer. And the answer? Would surprise even him.

"Well well well. Look who came back. Welcome _home_ Arthur."

_Home?_

* * *

**A/N:** Thoughts? Yes I did amend this from the original (added some bits and took some away to work on building the backstory). I always wondered at the supposed "lack" of Arthur's imagination so ran with this idea and built on it. So…would love your thoughts darlings haha (oh damn when Tom Hardy says it I always melted *sigh*) on this start. Who betrays Arthur? How will Eames play a part? Will Arthur actually open up to Eames and what danger is waiting for both? Please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	2. Happy Homecoming?

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 2 – Happy Homecoming? **

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. Your feedback is more than important as it will dictate the length of the story and let me know if they are still in character and of course if you're liking it!

* * *

_Home? This….this can't be Arthur's home, _Eames mind races inside. _No…he comes from a regular family. He's talked about…he has talked about them right? _

Arthur regards both men before him with a small nod before he speaks; wanting to keep his words brief and non-committal. "Cecil, Bryan. Been a long time."

"Not long enough," Cecil sneers as he leans in closer. "You're not welcome here. You never were. Don't you remember what we told you!"

"Never cared then what you thought before so why would I now?"

"You some kinda big shot now?" Bryan asks gruffly.

"It's been how long and you're still trying to goad me into a fight? Really? You never learned your lesson I guess."

"You always thought you're better than us. You're no one! You might fool all those around you with your expensive clothing and sarcastic remarks but you'll always be no one. You even got a family that cares for you? Or are you all alone just as Garth said you might end up?" Bryan leans in even closer with an angry hiss.

Arthur feels his anger starting to surge but given what he remembers about the men before him, he wasn't about to pick a fight when he was outnumbered and had left his gun inside his suitcase – upstairs. _Walk away…_his brain rightly warns. _You didn't come back for this._

"I'm not the same kid you picked on in the past. If you want a fight you'll have one, I promise you!" Arthur glares at them in anger; Eames lips twitching upward in the shadows with an amused smile. _I hope you never lose that feistiness love._

"Is that a fact?"

"It is."

Both of them look at Arthur in contempt, Cecil leaning in to offer one last goading remark when two adults and a young boy exit the house and the confrontation disperses.

"We'll finish this another time."

"Count on it!" Bryan hisses.

"Good night gentlemen," Arthur gently nods as he turns on his heel and heads toward the end of the street, not daring to look back; knowing without his gun or some other real life advantage, two against one wouldn't work out well in his favor. _It's not like I have Eames here to back me up, _his mind instantly ponders. _He's gone back to his world. Finish up here and then get back to yours, _his mind reminds him. But as he allows himself to dwell on that he now wonders what he's hurrying back to? _ I am alone._

"I want him to bleed," Bryan growls as one heavy fists pounds into the other thick palm; Eames worry starting to rise. "Seeing that bastard again brought it all back. He set me up…he betrayed me and he has to pay."

"He set both of us up! But now that he's back we'll just have to extend some of our own hospitality and he will bleed. Come on, let's get a drink and talk," Cecil assures him before they pull out of earshot, Eames cursing the fact that he was ill prepared and unable to hear what their evil plan was for dealing unsuspecting Arthur some outright physical harm. He dares to look out once more, watching the two men disappear around the corner and steps out, hurrying across the street to where he had hidden his suitcase and quickly looking around for a place to spend the night. He finally notices a hostel down the street with a for rent sign illuminated and heads toward it; biting back a thought of disdain at what kind of place he might be forced to spend the night in himself. _You've been in worse, _his brain correctly reminds him.

But as he looks across the street at the darkened house and recalls the hurtful words about Arthur having no one, his own heart starts to feel pain. _He's alone…he's always been alone. That explains so much. Why he's so guarded…so closed up…won't let go…won't open up…won't dare to dream bigger. Ever. _

"Any single rooms facing the street?"

"You want a single room all to yerself you gotta pay for it," the desk clerk yawns.

"Sure, whatever it takes," Eames answers with a small huff as he takes the key and heads for the stairs; feeling a few sets of inquisitive eyes watching the well-dressed stranger gracing them before he disappears upstairs, reminding himself that this was for a friend and worth the silent hassle he was now enduring.

"Alright Arthur, what has brought you back…_home_." The last word to escape his lips forces his heart to sink; his mind thinking back to his own delightful childhood where playtime, dreaming and imagination not only flourished but were encouraged to do so by charming and doting parents. He casts a weary gaze outside the window, watching as Arthur's stiff figure rounds the corner and disappears; the two previous troublemakers nowhere in sight.

"So much for a quiet evening," Eames lightly huffs to himself as he grabs a cap and heads back outside, wanting to get a better of the land and see what new trouble Arthur had found for himself.

XXXXXXXX

_'Hey Cecil, check this one out. Hey runt you new here?'_

_'Only here for a visit.'_

_'To an orphanage? Were you bored? Or did you want to see how the other half lived?'_

_'Look Bryan he looks sad.'_

_'What do you two want? My mom and dad said they'd be right back.'_

_'You're alone got it? They are never coming back! You're stuck here!'_

Arthur's lips mutter a small curse in an undertone as he nears the small store, but now wonders if coming back was such a wise idea. _Too many memories…and none of them are happy, _his brain silently laments as he enters the corner store and offers a small frown to the young cashier.

"Is Rick Towes here?"

"Rick? No sorry man he died a few years back. They still keep the sign for old time's sake I guess. You wanna talk to the new owners?"

"No that's okay thanks I'll just get this bottle of water."

Arthur heads back toward the orphanage, telling himself that he'd only stay one day and then head back to Paris and immerse himself in work. Dealing with sometimes less than reputable companies and people had forced him to always trust his gut and be aware of his surroundings; having eyes in the back of his head. He slows his pace and turns, not seeing the figure quickly duck into the shadows and remain still until he had moved on.

_Too...close, _Eames mind inwardly gasps as Arthur once again disappears from view nearing the orphanage where he'd remain for the night.

Arthur nears the front door and an image of himself as a small boy hugging his suitcase to his chest as his father's hand pushed him up the stairs to the front door. _That's in the past…let it go_, he commands himself as he quickly swallows back his rising resentment and heads inside.

At first he had expected to run into Cecil and Bryan but upon not seeing them feels his anxiety starting to lessen; so he knocks and waits to enter.

"Arthur, come on in," Garth entreats the younger man standing in the open doorway to his office with a warm smile. "How was the trip down memory lane?"

"Ran into Cecil and Bryan outside."

"And how was that?"

"Almost feels like old times," Arthur replies in sarcasm.

"Well I know you weren't their biggest fans and I suppose you always knew they weren't yours either but I'm sure as adults they have moved passed petty reasoning's."

"Was more like petty jealousy and outright bullying," Arthur huffs as his brow furrows. "Could never understand why."

"Don't let those two out there ruffle your feathers," Garth huffs as he hands Arthur a half glass of scotch, both settling into easy chairs in the dimly lit office. "They've always tried to get a rise out of everyone."

"Everyone? Always felt like I was their special target," Arthur replies as he takes a small sip of his drink.

"Suppose it was because you never gave in to them. The few times you had me run interference didn't make much of a difference either; you just never gave in to them and they didn't like it. You always kept to yourself."

"Kept thinking my parents would come back," Arthur mentions bitterly. "Inside I think I had given up but outwardly I wanted to keep that dream alive. Gave up on that dream not long after I was left. So do they live around here?"

"They still live in town somewhere and drop by from time to time, usually when they need something. Money mostly."

"What? Garth, do you give in to them? That's not right, especially when you need money for this place. What do they do for work, or whatever?"

"Mostly odd jobs and stuff, nothing that one might typically call a professional success. Cecil got into it with a guy at a bar one night, spent the night in a holding cell until Bryan came and bailed him out. But Bryan has also done a stint behind bars. Oh they're good boys underneath, just got a bit waylaid now and again. But oddly enough they've always remained friends."

"Two of a kind," Arthur lightly grimaces as Garth nods.

"The only two they seem to hurt the most is themselves these days."

"Guess they also grew up. So…who else has come back to visit?"

"Richard Dawkins was back a few months ago."

"Really? How is he?" Arthur asks with the first hint of genuine excitement since he arrived. But as he watches Garth's face cloud over, his heart rate quickens. "Garth?"

"I'm afraid that Richard met with an unfortunate accident a few weeks back."

"Accident? You don't think it was an accident?"

"I don't believe in coincidences. Do you?"

"Sometimes. What happened?"

XXXXXXXX

Eames sharp vision starts to study the landscape closely as if he were scoping out a location for a new job; his mind actually chuckling at the fact that he was doing Arthur's job for him. He had spent the past two hours researching the area, the house itself, those who had lived in it and of course where if he could find them, the adult occupants had gotten to and whose Identity he could 'borrow'.

He had found a Facebook page dedicated to the home and the boys that had lived there over the years. He had aimlessly searched until he found the only one that mattered to him. Eames eyes continue to linger on the picture of a young Arthur, expectant expression, mischievous smile but warm brown eyes that held pain and sorrow and for a few seconds Eames fingers reach out and rest on the computer screen, wanting to take away Arthur's pain and tell him everything would be okay. He presses next and can't help but smirk at a group picture of the boys doing something crazy atop a stationary school bus. But aside from one other group picture, Arthur wasn't to be found.

_Maybe he only lasted a few years, _Eames muses as he leans back in his chair. Knowing he wasn't about to walk around as himself during the daylight hours and not having the dream space to fall back on, Eames starts to search for someone around his age and who could fit into the brief supply of disguises he had brought; preferably someone who didn't live on the continent but hadn't been active with the others. Tall order and one that wouldn't be easily filled, but it was actually the challenge he could embrace with open arms. Forging someone else's life. _I get paid to do this normally, _he inwardly ponders. _For Arthur, I'd do it for nothing._

He casts a stony sapphire gaze out the window and rests upon the small light across the street. "Why did you come back darling? Business…or personal?"

XXXXXXXX

"You want a hand getting this place ready tomorrow or do you have that covered?" Arthur asks as he and Garth slowly stand up; the scotch all drunk and the two of them ready to call it a night.

"Could always use an extra hand, but don't you have a family to get back to?"

"I travel a lot," Arthur replies with a somewhat strained smile. "No time to settle down."

"And this new friend. You never spoke of him much. What's his relationship to you?"

"Just a friend…maybe brother…in another world, just not this one," a nervous laugh escapes Arthur's lips as he shoves his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Well if you're up for getting a bit dirty, I'd love the help."

"Don't let the attire fool you, I'm more than capable of making a mess with a hammer and some nails," Arthur gently chuckles as Garth pats him on the back.

"Splendid. Well I have a few financial things to tend to in the morning but would love some help after that."

"I think I could use a few hours extra sleep. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight Arthur," Garth states warmly as he watches the young man leave; making sure Arthur's back was turned before he reaches for the phone and exhales heavily.

XXXXXXXX

Arthur pushes the door to his former bedroom open and pauses; it hadn't been reserved for him upon his return, it had been used afterward but was currently vacant. He closes the door and leans against it; his mind showing him an image of himself as a small boy that very first night.

With a heavy breath he slowly heads across the room, covering the small space in a few easy strides and coming to stop at the window, not realizing that he was now being watched by a concerned set of eyes.

Through his binoculars, Eames pauses on Arthur's face, his own heart starting to ache as he watches Arthur's vision start to glisten before he quickly turns away.

"Bad memories love?" Eames whispers in misery as his eyes trace the Arthur's profile. "Tell me what eats away at you in there? What happened?" For a split second he actually ponders the thought of surprising Arthur, sedating him and forcing himself into his tormented dream space, wanting to see just what memory of his past was still haunting him in the present.

_'When will you be back mom?'_

Arthur hears his voice as a young boy standing in the middle of the very quiet room, holding a small teddy bear in one hand and his suitcase in the other; looking up at his mother as she kisses his cheek and then hugs him tightly.

_'We'll be back very soon. You be a good boy now. Always remember your father and I love you and we'll be back very soon.'_

_'Promise?'_

_'Trust me.'_

"I did trust you," Arthur whispers as he quickly swallows back a lump of emotion and pulls away from the window, heading for his suitcase but forgetting to close the blinds and allowing Eames to watch a bit longer. He slowly opens his suitcase and looks at the gun nestled between two dress shirts before he slowly retrieves it.

"Now I trust on one," Arthur growls to himself as he takes his gun and shoves it under his pillow, a place for safe keeping and swift access.

_Oh darling is that the only toy you bring to bed? _Eames mind chuckles as he watches Arthur fix the gun under his pillow and then turn back to his suitcase. _Tell me you're going to undress for the whole world to see? That would be a waste._

Arthur looks at the open window and turns to close it when there's a knock at the door and he heads to open it; Eames watching as Arthur's body half disappears from view; his mind racing as to who could be calling on him this late.

"Hi…sorry is this your room?"

"Yeah but Garth said you were using it for a few nights."

"Is that okay?"

"Sure," the boy shrugs. "I forgot my toothbrush," the young boy confesses as Arthur holds the door open and smiles as the young boy enters.

"I'm Arthur."

"I'm Allen. Why are you here?"

"Came back for a visit," Arthur replies in truth as he eases himself down onto the bed and looks at the young boy with a friendly smile. "How long have you been here?"

"Since I was little. My mom's dead and no one wanted to adopt me," the young boy replies with a tight lipped smile; an expression that Arthur knows all too well, having perfected the same over the years.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Garth says I can stay here until I graduate. I'm doing well in school."

"That's what counts."

"Did you used to live here?"

"I did."

"Where's your family?"

"They're dead also."

The young boy grabs his toothbrush and hurries back out, offering a whispered goodnight to Arthur before the door closes once more, leaving the weary point man lone with his troubled thoughts.

_'Garth, what if my parents don't come back? Will I get adopted?'_

_'Let's not worry about that right now Arthur.'_

_'I can handle the truth. Please tell me, will I ever be adopted?'_

_'They usually put boys in this house who are past the age of adoption but never say never. Okay come now…'_

"Yeah…never," Arthur just mutters to himself as he turns around to get changed for bed, the curtain still open and Eames still watching. But just as he pulls out something to sleep in another soft knock is heard at the door and Arthur hurries to open it.

"Allen did you forge…" Arthur starts with a smile, only to stop short and narrow his eyes as his expression darkens.

_"Oh bloody hell what is he doing there?" _Eames hisses as his free hand automatically reaches for his sidearm.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay hopefully you are all still liking it and am slowly upping the tension and impending danger but adding past snippets and some future angst. So as always would love your review before you go and thanks so much!


	3. A Fair Warning?

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 3 – A Fair Warning?**

* * *

From his vantage point across the street, Eames watches Bryan appear in the doorway and can only grit his teeth at the fact that Arthur's gun was too far away to be of any use – if needed in a hurry. _Hope the sod is just lost, _his mind inwardly growls. But when he sees Bryan lean in closer, his finger starts to automatically ease back on the trigger.

"Come to tuck me in Bryan? Sorry you're not my type," Arthur quips before Bryan's lips twist into a small snarl and he leans in closer.

"You tell me the truth. Why the hell are you back?" Bryan demands gruffly.

"Worried I've come back to collect my money?" Arthur promptly retorts as he holds his ground; at the same time his mind wondering how fast it would take for him to get to the gun under his pillow.

"You betrayed us!" Bryan hisses as Arthur is forced to take a step back to dodge Bryan's advance.

"Us or you?" Arthur pushes back.

"Me!"

_"Bloody hell what's this about?" Eames growls, displeased he's only able to read the body language and nothing else._

"I've moved on and figured you'd have done the same."

"I went to…" Bryan's voice starts to raise when the door next to them opens and a small but curious set of eyes peers out and looks up at them.

"Prison? Want to go back for disturbing the peace Bryan," Arthur quickly interjects as he offers Bryan a cross expression. "I came to say hello to Garth and that's it. I don't care if you don't like it. Wait until I'm gone and then come back," Arthur finishes firmly.

"Goodnight," Bryan tells the small boy who quickly darts back inside and then closes his door to them; Bryan turning his attention back to Arthur in anger. Then without warning he grabs a handful of dark dress shirt and yanks Arthur a bit closer, Eames lips offering a curse he was sure was heard across the street. "You betrayed us and no amount of time is gonna take away that pain."

"Try a Tylenol," Arthur quips before he kicks Bryan in the knee and then turns back to get his gun; his hand whipping out his piece and turning back only to see Bryan with one raised as well.

_"Oh not good," Eames huffs as he silently watches the armed showdown in the boys home._

"So what now? We see who can out last the other in this Mexican standoff?" Arthur mocks.

"You actually know how to you use that toy pistol?" Bryan mocks as he inches closer; Eames weapon trained on the smooth patch of skin between Bryan's eyes.

_"Try it tough guy," Eames whispers through clenched teeth._

"I've learned a few other skills since you saw me last," Arthur states in anger. "And unlike you I didn't learn it from some cellmate named Rocky after we shared a shower stall together," he retorts.

"You always used sarcasm to deflect the fact that you're scared."

"Of you?" Arthur mocks as he arches his dark brows. "My turn to ask why the hell you are really here?"

Arthur's hand flinches as Bryan's free hand reaches for something in his pocket. "I don't think so…"

"Trust me you'll wanna see this."

Arthur watches as Bryan pulls out a small paper bundle and tosses it to him; the small object sailing past Arthur and landing on the bed behind him.

"I'll tuck you in next time."

Arthur feels his teeth grit as Bryan shoves the gun back into his shoulder holder and then backs out of the room, giving Arthur a mock bow before offering him the finger and then turning to leave; Eames hand only easing back on the trigger after Arthur had gone to the door and locked it.

He watches in rapt fascination as Arthur hurries back to the bed and eases himself down, resting the gun at his side and then reaching for the small packet. Arthur looks at the scribbling on the outside and instantly feels his stomach seize.

_'Give that back Bryan!'_

_'Or what runt? You gonna tell your daddy? Oh that's right you no longer HAVE ONE!'_

His body jerks as if he was involuntarily feeling the verbal sting in this moment and feels his fist curl tightly around the packet before his left hand reaches for whatever was within grabbing distance and hurls the small book across the room; forcing it to slam into the wall with a dull thud.

_"Arthur love…what's made you so upset?" Eames can only wonder, part of him wishing he was there next to him to ask what could cause such a strong display of outward emotion from a man so usually guarded and offer a shoulder if accepted. But knowing how proud and closed off Arthur is, he wonders if Arthur would even allow himself that moment of weakness, even to a trusted friend? One who genuinely cares?_

"Damn it," Arthur gently curses as he removes the elastic and slowly unfolds the packet; his heart starting to pick up the pace as he nears the core and the object hidden inside. He opens the paper and stares at the drawing he did as a small boyd; a small hand drawn picture of himself, his mother, father and small dog – aptly labeled my family.

_'Why keep that picture of your family runt?'_

_'My name is Arthur. Stop calling me runt!'_

_'Sorry King Arthur,' Bryan snickered. 'Why keep it?'_

_'Why can't you leave me alone?'_

_'Because you still believe they'll come back. They're never coming back. You're stuck here. YOU'RE ALONE!'_

"I was alone," he whispers as he stares down at the small locket, something he had feared lost or stolen a year after he was abandoned at the orphanage.

_'What is that Arthur?' Garth had asked a month after his parents had left him._

_'A locket my mother gave me. See it has me, my mom, my dad and my dog scruff. They gave him to our neighbor to take care of for a while. Do you think we'll get scruff back when they come and get me from here?'_

_'I hope so Arthur. But you hang onto that dream okay? Never give up on your dreams.'_

"But I did…dreams aren't the same anymore," Arthur utters in torment as his fingers curl around the locket; Eames still watching in silent but rapt fascination and wondering what clues to his past the locket held. "How the hell did Bryan get this? Unless…unless he had it the whole time?"

Arthur's growl echoes in the empty room before he tucks the locket into his inner jacket pocket, folds up the drawing and places it into his wallet and then picks up his gun and looks at it. He rests his forehead against if for a few seconds, a gesture that sends a small shudder right into the heart of Eames very core.

_"Come now love, put the gun away before you force me to come over there and take matters into my own hands," Eames whispers as he watches Arthur sag back onto the bed, the gun still fixed firmly in his grasp. _

"Never came back," Arthur offers in misery as his watery brown gaze darts over to the window and he looks at himself as a small boy, sitting by the window each night and offering a prayer that his parents would soon return and claim him from his horrible predicament. But as the feelings of abandonment continued to grow and gain momentum, the prayers became shorter until they were non existent and he had been forced to accept the fact, his fate had been sealed and that his family was never coming back to claim him.

With a heavy sigh, he finally rolls onto his side, retucks the gun under the pillow and tugs the bottom of his dress shirt out of his pants as he heads for the window.

_"Thanks for the modest peep show darling," Eames chuckles, "see you in the morning," he concludes with a small smile as he watches Arthur finally close the blinds shutting out the rest of the world and allowing him to get some muchly needed rest. "Tomorrow…is going to be interesting."_

But unlike his hidden friend across the street, Arthur's sleep is anything but restful as his mind switches between him waiting for his parents to come back, crying by the window and the night of the betrayal that Bryan had mentioned and him fleeing with his life. It's not until a few hours before the sun actually comes up that Arthur rolls onto his side and is able to get a few hours of solid rest.

Eames on the other hand was already up, sitting in front of the mirror and trying to perfect the disguise he'd be once again wearing of the man that Arthur had supposed lived with in the boys orphanage and trying to blend into the neighbourhood; all the while trying to find the real reason Arthur had come _home _and what Bryan and Cecil's plans were and how he could thwart them.

"Whatever they are, they're not good," Eames muses to himself as he affixes the black wig and then reaches for the mustache. "Really is a horrid look darling," Eames tries his American accent; always wrinkling his nose at how different he sounds. "Has no charm," he huffs as he places the mustache on and then turns to get dress; his mind wondering if Arthur got any rest after his unhappy reunion the night before. He glances outside across the street and frowns.

Arthur's ears pick up soft shuffling and instantly his hand reaches for his gun and pulls it, aiming it at the small boy whose room he was staying in and forcing the child to stop and cover his eyes.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Damn it I'm sorry Allen," Arthur offers in haste as he shoves the gun away and then tosses back the covers. "I didn't mean to startle you," he tells the boy as he kneels at his side. "You okay?"

"I'm sorry, I did knock but I need my clothes for today and Garth said it would be okay if I knocked and you didn't answer but I had to get downstairs and…" his voice rambles nervously as Arthur's lips can't help but crack into a warm smile.

"I'm not mad. I guess I didn't hear you. Take what you need."

"Why do you have a gun? Are you a cop?"

"Sort of," Arthur answers, knowing the truth would be too odd for the young child to grasp. "So what's going on downstairs? Anyone up and about yet?"

"Doug's in the kitchen making breakfast and Ms. Miller has come back for our medical stuff."

"Ms. Miller? Really?"

"You know her?"

"I knew a Ms. Miller when I was here before."

"Well she's really old," Allen blurts out with some dramatic flair that Arthur can't help but chuckle at. "Thanks Mister."

"It's Arthur remember? Call me Arthur."

"Thanks Arthur," the boy looks up with a grin. "Doug's making pancakes are you going to join us?"

"Sure. I'll be down shortly. You go and save me a seat okay?"

"Okay," the boy nods and grins before he darts out of the room with a handful of clothes, Arthur walking up to the door and closing it before he looks over at his suitcase. "Maybe I shouldn't have come back," he muses with a hint of sorrow in his tone. Not wanting to dress up too much, he opts for a pair of black dockers and short sleeve dress shirt; opening the windows after being properly clothed and looking down at the street. But his gaze narrows as he looks at Cecil and Bryan at the bottom of the steps, smoking and talking. Waiting for him?

"Don't they have anything better to do?" Arthur growls, not realizing that he had left the door open and was not alone.

"Don't let them ruffle your feathers too much," Garth's voice is heard, prompting Arthur to turn and look at Garth in surprise. "Door was open."

"Figured they would have grown out of their bullying ways," Arthur comments as he stands walks back to his bed and closes the cover to his suitcase.

"Don't leave on their account. You know they're just piss and wind."

"Remember that locket I had with me…the one with my family in it?"

"I remember, what about it?"

"Remember I lost it about a year after I was….left. Was it ever found?"

"I don't think so. We have a lost and found box downstairs and you can check that if you want."

"Okay," Arthur answers with a small nod, telling himself to follow through with his ploy or it might seem a tad suspicious.

"Are you going to join us for breakfast?"

"Apparently my seat is already saved," Arthur answers with a friendly smile as he puts the small lock on his suitcase; tucking the gun and a few other things inside before he leaves his room and follows Garth toward the stairs to go down. "What's Allen's story?"

"Very sad actually. He…" Garth's voice trails off as they head for the kitchen area.

"Too quiet for my liking," Eames mutters to himself as he exits the hostel from the back and then swings around to the front, dressed a bit more down than his real persona of Master forger would; wearing dark jeans and a black sweater, something he saw Tim Charland wearing in a group outing photo taken by his company a year ago. He nears the front of the orphanage and automatically narrows his gaze at Cecil and Bryan on the merit of their treatment toward Arthur but reminds himself that coming in as Tim, he has no previous attachment to the elusive pointman and to betray that affiliation so early in the game would only spell trouble for them both.

"Morning," Eames offers in his best American voice, giving them both a nod as he casually strolls past and into the entrance of the orphanage, thankful that he wasn't verbally accosted by either man. In truth he had no reason to be, but then this whole experience so far had been something he couldn't have planned or predicted. He enters the orphanage and is instantly drawn toward the smell of a home cooked breakfast and smiles. But his plan was to only get close to Arthur and observe – not actually interact, so sitting down for the most important meal of the day opposite the man he was spying on, wasn't in the cards.

However, just as he turns to leave, a friendly male voice is heard from behind, prompting him to pause in his tracks and lightly curse.

"Can I help you?" Garth asks as he nears him.

Eames turns around, his heart rate starting to increase as he looks at the first man he has to fool with his disguise. _Had they kept in touch? Did Garth know much about Tim Charland? Or like the others had they simply gone their ways and that was it? Maybe heard his name in passing?_

"Garth Walker," Garth extends his hand.

"Tim…Charland," Eames replies slowly, extending his hand for a brief shake.

"Tim…little Timothy? You had the horned rimmed glasses right?"

"Couldn't wait until I could afford contacts," Eames lightly stammers.

"So how are things?"

"Good, busy. I had some time off from work so thought I'd come up."

"Ah so you're here for the open house?"

"Of course," Eames/Tim answers with a tight smile. "But by the looks of it, I've come too early."

"Oh nonsense we need the help. I hope you can join us for breakfast. I'll have Doug set another…"

"I've already eaten," Eames lies; his mind begging for some of the tempting food but at the same time warning him that Arthur could be in there.

"Well at least come and have a seat and meet some of our boys. They always like to hear from ones who've been here and have made a success for themselves."

"Am I the only adult here for breakfast then?"

"Actually there are a few others here," Garth replies as he gestures for Eames to go into the kitchen. "Come and meet them."

_Arthur's in there…don't go in yet…he might see through the disguise. Walk away now!_

"I really should…"

"Trust me they don't bite," Garth smiles. "The Tim I remember was never afraid of anything."

"Well I know times are tough so I'll just…" Eames voice dies out as Garth's hand rests on his shoulder and gives him a small nudge toward the kitchen, forcing him to stop dead in the entrance just as Arthur looks up.

"Please join us, I insist," Garth offers with a friendly pat on the back. "In fact there's a seat right over there. Arthur you don't mind do you?"

* * *

**A/N:** hehe oh dear Eames love what have you done? So can Eames fast talk his way out of a date with destiny? Will Arthur suspect anything? And when will the angry tension inside Bryan and Cecil boil over and Arthur become their prisoner? Yes this chap was fresh and hope that's okay and you're all still liking the story. So please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	4. Bringing back the Past

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 4 – Bringing back the Past**

* * *

Eames looks at the table of expectant faces and feels his stomach literally sink. Throughout his life he had faced various tense and somewhat sticky situations but now coming face to face with Arthur, pretending to be someone from his past that he knew but thankfully lost touch with was handing him a serious throwback.

"I promise I don't bite," Arthur pipes up; forcing Eames face to gently grimace and give him a small nod while muttering under his breath 'pity' and drawing a rather curious eyebrow arch from the man to his right.

"Force of habit," Eames retorts as he lightly pats his stomach. "Actually I ate already so…"

"Really, we're a great group here and would be nice to have another adult at the table to talk about something other than Mighty Mouse," Arthur smirks as he earns a playful slap on the arm from Allen at his side.

"I like Mighty Mouse," Allen gently pouts as a few of the other boys launch into a childish discussion as to why it was a lame cartoon to like and how he had to get a bit more updated.

"Then it's settled. Take the seat by Arthur and I'll at least get you a cup of coffee Tim. Can't work on an empty stomach," Garth smiles as he gently herds Eames toward the side of the table that would lead him to Arthur.

_Bloody hell…what have I done, _Eames mind inwardly groans as he gives Arthur a small smile and nod, inwardly praying that his mustache doesn't fall off or a light colored sideburn doesn't show through. Thankfully Cecil and Bryan weren't around so the tension was less; at least for the rest of the table. Inside he's a mess.

"So…Tim right?" He hears Arthur's tone and turns to look at the rather expectant expression beside him.

"How are things for you Arthur?" Eames asks as casually as he can; his eyes darting back down to the steaming cup of coffee set before him.

"Good…busy," Arthur replies as he watches with a frown as Eames takes a sip.

"What?" Eames asks nervously. _Can he tell it's me? _

"No sorry just I remember how much sugar you used to put in all your drinks."

"Watching my waist," Eames replies with a small wink before he scolds himself. _Down play the Eames sarcasm, Arthur's not stupid…you might tip him off. _"Doctor's orders actually…uh high blood pressure," he answers in a somewhat deadpan tone. "And of course all that work stress," Eames/Tim rattles off nervously.

"Course," Arthur shakes his head. _He only seems to have the same mannerisms as someone else but it's not Eames! _"So…what do you do for work?"

"Own my own business which during these economic times is stressful," Eames replies somewhat matter of factly in the best Tim Charland voice impersonation he can manage. "You?"

"Somewhat the same," Arthur replies as he looks back down at the black coffee in his mug as it swirls around thanks to his hand motion.

"You came back for the open house then?"

"Yeah was in the area," Arthur answers with a nod and small smile.

"And is your family okay with this? I assume you're married…kids, you know regular stuff like the rest of us," Eames manages continues to pray for an intervention so he could make a hasty retreat.

"No one seems to mind when I'm away from home," Arthur replies rather shortly. To anyone else the somewhat distant forlorn tone would have been lost; but the sound eats away at Eames core long after the small smile on his lips in return had faded.

"I need some help with that old dog house outside," Doug pops his head into the kitchen. The intervention Eames had been praying for finally arrives, however, it's Arthur's quick actions and irritatingly adoring smile that earns him the free trip out of the kitchen; Eames staying behind and being subjected to another round of inspecting questions by the young boys.

"Thanks for the help. Just take this end…" Doug directs Arthur as they enter the modest backyard.

Some of the boys had already started to filter out; Eames hanging behind to put some time and space between Arthur but taking his perch beside the kitchen window and watching Arthur to make sure that he didn't inadvertently find trouble. But it only takes a few seconds for Garth to ask for Eames help that pulls him away from his lookout for only a few minutes so when he returns Arthur is missing.

_Arthur love I am tempted to shackle you to the bed, _his mind inwardly smirks; his lips offering an outward grimace as he sees Garth heading back to him.

"Oh Tim, just one more thing."

"And we'll move it into the garage," Doug tells Arthur outside.

"Sure thing," Arthur agrees as he picks up the shabby object and both carry it into the garage. "What happened to the dog that owned this house?" Arthur inquires as they near the center of the garage turned storage building.

"Was hit by a car. Terrible way to go and after that Garth couldn't bring himself to get another one. But I've told him that animals are great morale boosters for abandoned kids so we're thinking of getting another one."

"Boys love dogs. I think it's a great idea," Arthur agrees as they set the dilapidated house down atop a counter to be worked on.

"Do you have one?"

"Travel a lot so it wouldn't be fair," Arthur shrugs as offers Doug a small smile. "Mind if I look around in here for a bit?"

"Not at all. Rejoin us when you want."

Arthur watches Doug leave and then turns around and starts to inspect a table that contains the part to an old bicycle that as soon as his hands touch it, the memories start to flood back to the fore.

_'You can't ride that bike, you're too small.'_

_'More like too whimpy when he falls off.'_

_'We all get a turn.'_

_'Let him have a turn Cecil.'_

Arthur's fingers tighten around the rusted handle as he sees himself about six months after he had been left at the boys orphange, getting onto the bike and starting to peddle away, turning around and coming back with a smile on his face. But that smile quickly disappeared as a big rock was suddenly put in his path by Bryan and he ended up tumbling over the handlebars; Bryan and Cecil standing by laughing and one of the other boys upset because the bike was now dented.

"Stupid," Arthur mumbles to himself before he hears shuffling a few meters behind. "Has anyone thought about replacing this bike?" He asks.

Silence and then a firm door being slammed is all that follows forcing Arthur to turn around in haste; narrowing his eyes at Bryan who blocks the door.

"We were interrupted last night."

"What do you want?" Arthur demands with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"I walk to talk about that night."

"The past is the past, why bring it up now?"

"Do you know what that night meant for us? For me?" Bryan hisses as he takes a step closer. "A new start! You took that away. Yeah it was over for me until your face showed up here and brought it all back. Then I realized that I never got to give you what you deserved from that night! Now I can. It was because of y…"

"Look, I did what I thought was best for me. I was a young kid and…"

"I went to jail because of you!"

"You had the chance to le…"

"You never told us! You left us in the lurch so you could save your own ass!" Bryan glares at Arthur as he takes another step closer; Arthur automatically backing up but being stopped by the table. "I had plans just like you but thanks you I never got any of them! Do you know how easy it is for an ex-con to get a job in this economy? DO YOU?"

"What do you want me to do about it now? You want money is that it?" Arthur asks sharlpy.

"That's a start! So I can get out of this hell hole like you did!"

"Look I'm sorry got the short end that night but I don't have that kind of money. And that night…I ran and hid and stowe…"

"I want what I deserve!" Bryan retorts as he pulls out a sharp buck knife. "I'm done asking nicely."

"That was your nice tone?" Arthur asks dryly as Bryan lunges with the knife pointed forward; Bryan offering him a scowl before the knife slides through the air.

"I don't have…"

"I'll take you a piece at a time if I have to."

Arthur easily sidesteps the swipe but with the table behind him feels the full force of Bryan's body slam into his, his back bending oddly as he tries to pull himself free. His left elbow shoots up, clipping Bryan in the jaw and allowing him the chance to pull to the right.

"I want you to bleed!" Bryan hisses as he lunges at Arthur once more. "Like I did that night!"

"It wasn't…damn," Arthur curses as the knife finally makes contact with his skin and slices through the folds of his short sleeved dress shirt, opening up a slice on his upper right forearm about two inches above the hem. The pain doesn't register as Arthur's leg comes up, his knee catching Bryan in the groin just as his right hand manages to wrap around Bryan's right hand, trying to pry the knife from his grasp. Bryan tries to pull back but Arthur's left fist lands on Bryan's jaw and sends him back to the ground; Arthur snatching the knife and holding it in the air, cursing as he sees the tip dyed crimson.

"I want more blood than that!" Bryan spits on to the floor beside him.

"Then cut yourself!" Arthur counters in a huff as he tosses the knife toward the floor, both of them listening to the 'thunk' as it embeds itself into the leg of a nearby table. "This ends now. What happened that night is over and I'm sorry that…"

"You…"

"It's over!" Arthur half yells before he takes a deep breath and steps back. "I let go of my anger that night; maybe you should start right now."

"I can't!"

"That isn't my fault. I walked away and moved on with my life."

"And I went to jail because of you!"

"So you want me to go to jail?" Arthur demands in anger.

"Yeah, death row."

"That's one wish I won't fulfill. This is over now."

And before Bryan can offer another word, Arthur turns on his heel and heads for the door, reaching it in a few strides and emerging into the daylight hours once more.

"Oh it's far from over!" Bryan growls as he reaches for his knife and yanks it from the table leg and puts it away before he reaches for his cell and calls Cecil. "I'm done trying to reason with him. This ends tonight!"

Arthur storms toward the back steps to go in the house; his mind and heart racing at the latest altercation. It was very clear to him that Bryan wasn't willing to let things go and his life was worth far more than a few measly dollars Bryan thinks he's owed. _I'll just come back at a later date when there isn't a reason for any of the others to be here. _He flexes his arm and sure enough feels the cut skin starting to pull and mix with the rough edges of the cut fabric as goes in search of Garth to tell him he had to leave early.

"He'll be back in a few hours," Doug tells Arthur in truth.

"Okay thanks," Arthur nods as he stars to climb the backstairs to go into the house. "Liked this shirt," Arthur grumbles as his arm flexes with movement and opens the cut a bit more. He reenters the backdoor and then stops, giving Eames/Tim a small nod before he carries on.

"Anything out there for the rest of us to do?" Eames lightly quips.

"Few things," Arthur heads past, offering him a small nod.

Eames hears an angry curse and turns back and looks out the window and watches Bryan emerge from the garage with an angry scowl, heading toward the back of the garage where he assumes either a car or Cecil is waiting. _Serves you right you sod going against Arthur, _Eames mind proudly states as he turns back to see Arthur heading for the exit to the kitchen. But Eames proud smile instantly fades as he watches Arthur's left hand brush against the wall and leave behind a small stain of red.

"Oh bloody hell darling what happened in the garage," Eames whispers under his breath as he casually heads toward the doorframe, his fingers feeling the sticky ooze and his mind racing. _Arthur was cut? How bad? By Bryan? Or something else? _He waits for Arthur to get halfway up the stairs before he quietly excuses himself and takes determined steps to follow, reaching the top of the landing and glancing toward the shared bathroom with the door slightly ajar.

Arthur slowly takes off his dress shirt and looks at the slice in the sleeve before a small creek on the other side of the door quickly forces him to react; pulling back the door with his right and offering a tightly closed left fist.

"Whoa Arthur it's me…its…sorry the door was open. Sorry."

"Tim, sorry," Arthur huffs as he pulls back and instantly relaxes; his lips emitting a heavy sigh. "Thought you were someone else."

"Nope just me. What happened?"

"Oh nothing just…"

"Now that's a nasty cut you have there," Eames states in concern; his voice slightly faltering, seconds away from betraying his true identity but pulling back at the last second and reminding himself that Arthur was okay and he was only here to observe. "What happened?"

"Careless," Arthur shrugs as he offers Eames a small look of defeat before he turns aside.

"Need some help with that?" Eames asks, unable to hold back his concern. "At least give me the band aide."

"Uh…sure," Arthur reluctantly agrees as he hands Eames the band aide and then continues his task of cleaning the wound. "So what's it like being back here for you?" Arthur gently inquires as he continues to clean the wound; Eames blue gaze locking with Arthur's warm dark chocolate gaze for a few seconds before he clears his throat and looks at the wound.

"Brings back some sour memories. How about you?"

"Ones I had hoped to forget," Arthur sighs as he turns his right side to Eames so that he can put the band aide on; giving him a small smile as Eames fingers gently places it over the cut.

"There…all better?" Eames asks as he carefully pushes the edges down onto Arthur's smooth skin.

"Ah…yes…thank you," Arthur answers with a small frown as Eames looks at him in wonder. "You seem…"

"As you remember Tim?" Eames interjects in haste.

"That would…be it," Arthur puts on a tight smile as he nods and pulls back; his mind wondering about the odd similarities as someone he knows all too well and Eames mind racing that Arthur was putting together things too quickly and his cover soon could be blown. "Thanks. Hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here."

"How long are you staying?"

"Might be shorter than I thought," Arthur replies slowly as a frown crosses his face.

"Something's come up that calls you back…you never said where you call home these days."

"LA," Arthur lies in haste. "And yes something's come up. Work. Always work," Arthur tries to lie with a tight lipped smile. "Safe drive back to Philly Tim was good to see you," he comments as he gently pushes past Eames and heads for his bedroom and closes the door.

"Yeah…you too."

_Leaving so soon? What happened in that garage Arthur? What does Bryan have against you that forces hatred to blossom after all these years? And enough to send you packing first? That isn't you love, you never back down form a fight. What's going on? _Eames looks at the closed door and hears the angry curse on the other side and finds himself wanting to bust down the door and demand the truth from Arthur no matter how painful. But he holds back, telling himself that this was Arthur's life and as much as he wants too he would have to wait until Arthur asks for help or needs it unwillingly. _And hopefully it won't come to that._

Eames wanders back to the stairs and then looks out the side window and notices Bryan and Cecil talking by the small side garden, sharing a smoke and what would be a heated exchange. He reaches the landing and spies the side door by the small laundry room and then heads for it, slowly leaning against it and pausing to listen.

"Why the hell didn't you wait for me? You thought he was the same wimpy kid he was when he was here?" Cecil demands in agitation.

"I cut him alright? I would have done more but the bastard got the drop on me! Damn he's fast," Bryan groans as Eames inwardly chuckles. "He might want to forget that night but I haven't. He owes us and if he won't offer money then I want blood! I want him to suffer like I had to suffer!"

"I went to jail also you remember?"

"My sentence was longer so don't talk to me about what's unfair!"

"You even think he has that kind of money?"

"I don't care! You know what I want and…" Bryan retorts with an angry growl as he leans in closer, whispering something that Eames is unable to hear.

"Why am I staying," Arthur growls as he balls up the ruined dress shirt and tosses it aside; reaching for a dark printed one and then looking at his perplexed reflection in the mirror as he slowly does up the buttons. But in all fairness he owed it to Garth to tell him he was leaving face to face and so with a determined nod to his reflection he does up the rest of the buttons on his long sleeved dress shirt and heads back into the hallway.

His mind thinks back to his few interludes with him Tim Charland; feeling inside there was something so familiar about the man from his past but not able to put his finger on it. _Kinda reminds me of Eames, _he silently muses; chuckling to himself as he pictures Eames horrified expression at being compared to the rather boring American with the bushy haircut and thick mustache.

_'You can call me anything you want darling but the day you call be boring is the day you'll really be asking for it,' Eames had quipped._

_'Oh yeah? You gonna spank me Eames?'_

_'Don't tempt darling, I just might. By the way that's a nasty cut you have there…'_

"Nasty cut…" Arthur's voice dies out as he reaches the bottom and heads for Garth's office to see if he was back. Doug tells him that Garth was due back in an hour, so Arthur goes in search of Allen, wanting to keep busy and keep away from Bryan and Cecil.

After hearing what devious plans Bryan and Cecil had for Arthur, Eames had made a diligent effort to keep the point man in his sights at all times, but knows that much like this morning with the garage incident, it wouldn't take much for Arthur to slip away and allow give Bryan and Cecil an opportunity to take him two on one. _ Have to even the odds at all times, _Eames mind reasons as he watches Arthur laughing with Allen before he scoops up the small boy and spins him in the air; childish laughter delighting everyone in the vicinity. Well almost everyone.

"Not here," Cecil hisses to Bryan as he holds him back; Eames watching with a frown, his gun almost feeling heavier on his side than normal.

_I swear love you're going to give me premature grey hair, _Eames inwardly quips as he watches Arthur being tackled by four of the young boys and wrestled to the ground as they all laugh; seconds later Arthur's arms wrapping around Allen and rolling around with the boy in his grasp as the others laugh. Eames notices the relaxed, almost genuinely happy expression on Arthur's face and feels an inner sense of peace starting to cover him. But as he glances to the right and notices Bryan's fists tighten, one thick palm inside the other, he knows unless Arthur's careful that happiness will be short lived.

About an hour later Arthur pulls away from the group outside, noticing Tim watching him and giving him a small nod as he disappears inside. _Why does he keep pretending he's not watching me? _Arthur's mind ponders as his sharp vision pulls back from the man seemingly out of place but trying desperately to fill in. _Maybe he's…doesn't matter, tell Garth and get on the plane to Paris and don't look back._

"Right," Arthur whispers as he knocks on Garth's door. "Got a sec?"

"For you? Always," Garth entreats. "I was thinking tomorrow that…"

"I can't stay," Arthur offers in haste as Garth lowers the magazine clipping he was reading. "I um…have a job to get back to and…well seems they can't live without me. Just called and I have to be there tomorrow," Arthur offers lightly as his hands shove nervously into his pockets.

"I know Bryan can…"

"It's not them," Arthur tries to state in his defense. "Well part of it is. I see now that they still harbor a lot of resentment and with me here it uh….it just festers and forces their anger and resentment to grow and none of us need that. So…so I'll go home, do this job and then come back when things are less…tense."

"I didn't realize so many would come back for the open house."

"It was good to see you again Garth."

"You sure you hav…"

"Yeah I gotta go. I have a job to get back to," Arthur says as Garth nears him. But as Garth's hands rest on his arms and give his fresh wound a squeeze, Arthur pulls back with a small gasp.

"Arthur?"

"It's nothing. I'll call in a few months okay?"

"If they did something…"

"It's best if I come back at another time," Arthur states firmly; his determined expression almost pleading with Garth to not argue with him any longer.

"Take care my boy," Garth whispers as he gives Arthur a warm hug and then pulls back. "Keep in touch."

"I will."

Arthur heads back into the hallway and notices Tim at the end standing in the shadows near the door. "Goodnight."

Eames looks at Arthur's tense frame and gives him a small wave and goodnight before he watches Arthur turn and slowly head up the stairs out of view. _Heading home for real this time? _Unless Cobb had called him for a job, which was possible, Eames tells himself that Arthur had been given a real warning from Bryan and was actually heeding it. From what he had quickly learned about Arthur's character, he knows he's not someone to just tuck tail and run. Unless there was nothing to gain and his life to actually lose? _Must not be worth the hassle, _Eames surmises inside as he leaves the building and slowly heads toward the hostel across the street. He stops just as he crosses to the other side and looks up at Arthur's window and frowns at his somewhat deflated silhouette. _What happened today? _

Once again he ponders the thought of going into Arthur's room, subduing him and forcing his way into his tormented mind and extracting the veiled truth for himself. But as he pictures Arthur's pained expression in his mind at the seeming betrayal, all he can do is grit his teeth and hope that come morning the madness will be gone, they'll share one last reunion breakfast together and then go their separate ways – only to be reunited at Cobb's beck and call – safe and sound.

"Goodnight Arthur," Eames utters before he disappears inside.

"Have breakfast…and then take the first flight out," Arthur mutters to himself as he looks down at his suitcase and grumbles; remembering that he had left something in the bathroom. Still dressed in his black dockers and dress shirt he slips into the quiet hallway and lightly pads toward the bathroom, eyeing the object of his search on the counter, reaching for it and then flipping off the light, wanting to get back to his room and try to unwind. Thankfully he hadn't seen Bryan and Cecil for the dinner hour; his mind, however, hoping he could bypass them in the morning and actually get to the airport without any other mishaps.

Just as he nears the entrance to his quiet room, Arthur hears a small creak behind him and turns just in time to be met in the face with a firm fist, forcing his body to falter backward. Cecil rushes in, grabbing Arthur's arms and roughly jerking them behind his back, making the small toiletry kit to clatter to the floor; Bryan punching Arthur in the stomach before his frame is gasping for air.

"It's payback time. Bring him."

* * *

**A/N:** AH you knew the whump/capture was coming right? *evil grin* hey its what we like best hehe. But how was the lead up to this moment from the original story (for those that remember lol) ? yeah I added a few extra details once again and hope that it added a bit more to the backstory and motive on Bryan's part. Poor Eames so close and still so far. Will he ever find out the whole truth? I will come back to Arthur's family later but first things first haha so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	5. Betrayed!

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 5 – Betrayed!**

* * *

_'You told on us you little jerk!' Bryan's angry voice starts to ring in his head; the image as sharp as when it happened many years ago._

_'You had what was coming to you Bryan. I only told the truth.'_

_'Yeah well we'll see how much fun you like when you're on the receiving end of a beating for telling the truth.'_

_'What? Hey wait I just…'_

Arthur's eyes squeeze shut as he remembers Bryan and Cecil raining fist after fist down upon his trembling body; a few minutes later leaving his heaving and throbbing frame gasping for air on the dirty floorboards before they hurried back to their rooms; Arthur telling Garth the next day who was really responsible for his black eye and fat lip and Garth, saying he would punish them but not doing much follow through.

"It's in the past," Arthur whispers to himself as he looks down at his hands and realizes he's forgotten something. He turns back and heads for the bathroom to collect his toiletry kit and then call it a night. Just as he nears the entrance to his quiet bedroom, he hears a small creak behind him and turns just in time to be met in the face with a firm fist, forcing his body to falter backward. Cecil rushes in, forcing Arthur's arms behind him, making the small toiletry kit to clatter to the floor; Bryan punching Arthur in the stomach before his frame is gasping for air.

"It's payback time. Bring him!"

Arthur's body starts to thrash in Cecil's grasp as Bryan delivers another stiff blow; his lungs gasping for air as he tries in vain to fight back.

"Wait…" Arthur tries as Cecil drags his struggling body toward another small room at the end of the hallway and inside; dumping him on the floor and both angry faces looming over; Bryan having already tossed Arthur's small kit into his room and turned off the light. The same light Eames saw switch off and thinking it was Arthur turning the light off on his own and not even thinking that his friend was now facing possible life ending danger; something he had come here to help prevent.

"What is…going on?" Arthur wheezes as he looks up with a wince as he tries to get to his knees. "We have…no quarrel…anymore."

"You're wrong!" Bryan warns firmly.

"What more…is there to say?"

"You stay down if you know what's good for you," Bryan barks as he kneels down and grabs a handful of dark dress shirt fabric, pulling Arthur's frame halfway up off the floor, inches from his face. "You thought you could just take our money and then leave? You thought I'd just forget? You set me up and then took everything and ran away!" Bryan hisses. "I went to jail and you got off scot free!"

"You are mistaken. That wasn't my…" Arthur's plea is interrupted by another swift blow to his side; Bryan's fist however, still holding him painfully in a semi-upright position. "I wasn't…to blame. Frank was! He took…the money. Not me. Look you have to believe me."

"Frank and I made peace after I did my time for him and he told me it was you!" Bryan growls as Cecil steps up.

"Course…he would," Arthur wheezes with a sarcastic note.

"You just ran like the no good coward you are! And now you're back? You come in here…acting like some big shot and you expect me to believe you are innocent of all past wrongs?"

"Frank set me up," Arthur insists as he tries to pull himself free of Bryan's vice-like grasp.

"You have proof?"

"You took his word, why not listen to mine?"

"Because I _never_ liked you!" Bryan hisses. "I want what's coming to me! I want what you owe me! You stole from me and if I have to take it back from you slowly and painfully I will."

"I didn't…steal…ahhh…." Arthur's lips gasp as Cecil hits him in the side again; Bryan letting go and allowing Arthur's frame to slump to the floor. His dark chocolate eyes try to blink away a few painful tears and focus on trying to find an escape route out of the clutches of the two very angry men trying to do him harm.

"There must be something…I can say so you'll…believe me," Arthur gasps as his eyes lock on Bryan and then dart up to Cecil to see what he was up to.

"Garth always said you were trouble."

"Garth…what? No you're mistaken. He said…look whatever he sa…" Arthur tries once more as Bryan grabs the lapels of his dress shirt and yanks him upright. "I'm not to blame here. Frank is."

"You always thought Garth was on your side? Why do you think no one came to your aid that night and won't tonight? He looked the other way then and is now. And it's not like he's betrayed you," Bryan sneers as Cecil nears. "He was never on your side! You were always alone!"

"Look you want me to rob a bank…ahhh," Arthur hisses again as Cecil bends down and applies pressure to his freshly cut arm; forcing Arthur to writhe in his grasp. He feels fresh droplets of blood starting to escape the bandaide and seep down his skin under his dress shirt as he tries in vain to pull his arm free. "I was…a damn kid!" He growls before his lips emit a heavy curse. "What do you…want from me?"

"I want my money back! But if I can't have that from you then I'll take what I said I would in the garage. Your blood!"

"I don't have…"

"You're here to stay so stay down! You're with us for the night. Cecil, shut him up."

"But…I said I don't h..mmph," is all Arthur manages before a thick cloth is forced between his lips, effectively gagging him and forcing his words to halt instantly. He tries to twist his head but Cecil manages to get the gag in place and tie it behind his head as Bryan holds Arthur's wrists, not allowing him an opportunity to fight back. After he was tightly gagged, Bryan gives him a mocking pat on his cheek and grins.

"Too bad no one cares you're here," Bryan nods to Cecil. "But don't worry I'm not going to kill you just yet. I want a bit of revenge first. Come morning though, you might be begging for death. Cuff him Cecil."

"Mmmph!" Arthur tries to struggle free, Cecil's hands holding onto his wrists as he's bodily dragged backward into a small adjoining room and up to a rusted radiator; the handcuffs already hinged around his left wrist. Arthur's body continues to pull in vain as he's wrestled up against the defunct radiator, handcuff looped around a pipe at the top and his right wrist finally captured; his arms tightly trapped above his head.

"Already have taken a small amount," Bryan sneers as he leans in and grabs Arthur's throbbing and freshly bloodied arm and squeezes, forcing Arthur to try to yell in pain. "The slower I inflict pain on you the more satisfying my revenge will be. Sleep well Arthur!" Bryan hisses as he deals him a swift blow to the jaw, forcing Arthur's head to snap back against the cold metal of the radiator and then loll forward – unconscious.

Both men stand up and give each other a small nod before leaving the room, turning off the light and closing the door; sealing Arthur inside his cold, dark prison – alone.

XXXXXXXX

But its not only Arthur who spends the night in something less than a peaceful slumber; Eames finds himself awake a few hours later, staring at the window and looking up at the inky night sky.

_'You're a quiet one Arthur. What methods do I have to use to pry some personal tidbits from you hmmm?' _ He remembers asking Arthur after a rather emotionally draining extraction; one that had forced the team to confront various personal demons but Arthur had somewho escaped emotionally unscathed once again. This fact was not lost on the forger at the time.

_'You can't afford them,' Arthur had retorted._

_'Oh don't tease love, you know I am always up for a challenge.'_

_'There isn't much to tell. I had two parents and no siblings. End of story.'_

"But that wasn't the end of the story was it," Eames frowns as he looks over at his laptop; his brow furrowing as his eyes fix on the headline without wavering.

_Car accident that claims couple might not have been accident after all._

But as he starts to piece together a few moments during the times he's observed Arthur in family settings, even around Dom and Mal, before she passed, it made sense why Arthur was always so tightly withdrawn.

_'Don't like kids Arthur?' _ He remembers pressing the point man one time at a social function at the Cobb residence.

_'Used to be one right?'_

It was a very clever and successful defense mechanism he knows Arthur has perfected over the years; deflecting inner emotional pain with outer witty comebacks. Tossing in a pinch of biting sarcasm and the pursuer usually lost interest and moved on. Eames of course wasn't most pursuer's especially when someone was holding something back on purpose.

"What are you afraid of anyone knowing Arthur?" Eames whispers as he finally rolls onto his side, away from the window and closes his eyes, hoping that maybe tomorrow Arthur would leave and he could take a chance to call him in Paris and suggest a meeting. "I'm not afraid of drugging him either," his voice snickers to himself in the darkness before his brow furrows. "Hope you're at least having a restful night. One of us should be," he whispers seconds before darkness finally wins the ultimate battle.

XXXXXXXX

A few hours later, Arthur's world slowly starts to come back to him; panic seizing him as he tries to get his eyes to focus on something other than the thick darkness enveloping him. _'Frank said it was you…Garth never liked you…betrayed you…now you'll pay.'_

His teeth bite down into the thick gag as a heavy wince settles upon his weary frame as it tries to slightly shift to a more comfortable position. But with his arms firmly captured and held in an upright position above his head and the rigid edges of the useless radiator digging into his spine he knows he's in for a fitful night ahead and slumps back to his original position. His cut arm starts to scream at him to find a better position and his lips offer a tormented moan once more.

_This can't be happening…Garth…he wouldn't do this…he…_but as he allows his mind to ponder back to that night…that night so many years ago when Bryan and Cecil delivered his first beating he now wonders why Garth didn't press for the culprits a bit harder. He had told on them but how did they know? He went to Garth in confidence. He had told himself that night that one of the other boys must have heard and then told the two older bullies it was him to curry favor and get on their good side. Arthur never cared about fitting in; he just wanted to do his time in the boy's home and then move out as fast as he could – never looking back.

_Garth wouldn't do this to me…he always looked out for me…always protected me…he…_his inner thoughts die out as he tries to shift to another position; his lips gasping and his mind cursing the small but distinct taste of copper still teasing his palate from when his lip bust and some of his own blood was trapped inside his mouth by the ensuing gag. _Damn this…_Arthur grumbles as he slumps back in weary defeat. _Why didn't I tell anyone where I was going? _

He allows his mind to think back to that fateful night.

_'Frank I'm out.'_

_'What the hell do you mean you're out?'_

_'I don't…'_

_'Need the money? You lying bastard. You know you need it. Besides you're in too deep.'_

_'Frank…I'm out. I left the car in the secured stall in Harpers garage. Third floor. Everything's still inside.'_

_'You walk away now Arthur and you will be sorry. You can't just set this up and then walk away scot free. Do you understand me? You're in too deep now! You know too much!'_

_'I'll take my chances. Everything is good to go. I give you my word that I will walk away and not say anything Frank. This life isn't for me.'_

_'You're making a big mistake.'_

_'Maybe…but it probably won't be the last.'_

_'You can't turn your back on this much money.'_

_'What good will it be if I'm not around to spend it?'_

_'You leave and you really will be dead.'_

_'Goodbye…I'm not coming back – ever.'_

But he had walked away clean, or so he told himself; stowing away on a cargo ship that night bound for Paris and not looking back. Now he had taken a chance to come back…thinking …hoping that maybe Garth could use some help, physical and monetary but now wonders if it was Garth that told Frank about him wanting to back out as he was the only one he told. Did Garth then tell both Frank and Bryan? Or just Bryan and then…

_Damn it…_Arthur curses himself and his plight as he tugs on the handcuffs in vain; stopping a few seconds later as he hears the snoring in the other room break for a few seconds before continuing. As much as he hated sitting in the dark, gagged and cuffed to a radiator, it was the lesser of two evils; especially when the other evil involved a senseless beating at his helpless expense. He leans back on the cold apparatus and closes his weary eyes, wondering what misery morning would hold? Surely Garth would come looking for him? _He will right? He's still on my side?_

XXXXXXXX

Eames awakens early the next morning and grunts as his weary frame shifts on the hard, uncomfortable bed; his gaze looking upward to the small window and frowning at the stormy skies. "Hope you slept better than me Arthur darling," Eames groans as he sits upright and stares out the window; the building across the street seemingly quiet from outward appearance. The night before had been somewhat restless and tormented as he has spent most of it trying to dig into Arthur's elusive past, finding a few more angsty nuggets and then telling himself to try to get some sleep and come up with a new plan in the morning to extract the truth without using less than legal means.

Arthur had told him he was leaving but the words he had overheard from Bryan and Cecil had sent off warning bells in his mind that they could still try something. Only when Arthur was on the plane, in the air heading for Paris and he was a few rows back watching would he be assured things were okay.

"So with any luck, today will be uneventful," Eames ponders out loud before he turns and eyes his gun atop a neatly folded shirt and frowns. "But still better to be prepared just in case." He completes his Tim disguise and then stuffs the gun into his side holster and affixes his casual jacket over it so nothing looks amiss. After everything was packed up just in case he had to make a quick retreat, he heads for the back exit door and slips into the alleyway.

Eames slowly heads toward the front of the building, his mind knowing that above all he had to keep the detached persona of Tim Charland up in front of Arthur, Garth and the others until he was well away from here; then he could let his guard down and confront his secretive friend. Eames steps inside, expecting to see Arthur either with the boys or with Garth as he said he'd be having an early morning and then taking the morning flight out. _Sleeping in love? _Eames mind ponders as he hears a creek behind him.

"Hey mister who are you?" A young voice is heard, prompting Eames to turn around and offer a small smile at the little boy before him.

"A…guest of sorts," he quickly clears his throat, scolding himself for letting his native accent slip for even a few seconds.

"A guest of what?"

"Miles, leave poor Tim alone," Garth's voice is heard from behind him; Eames taking a deep breath and turning around with a small smile.

"Morning," Eames greets with a small smile.

"Morning. Joining us for breakfast this morning?"

Feeling full of inner confidence Eames gives Garth a curt nod before answering. "Should eat before the big event huh?"

"Today the creditors come and if all goes well…at least a few more years funding," Garth replies with a heavy sigh. "And if not…well guess we shouldn't think like that just yet right?"

"I'm sure everything will work out just fine. So am I the first adult here?"

"Might be the only one," Garth answers with a small frown. "It'll be a few minutes yet."

"I'll just reacquaint myself with my old room."

"Sure."

_Arthur…missing breakfast? Not like you? _Eames slowly heads for the end of the hall, pausing as he looks up the stairs as his mind thinks back to another amusing anecdote.

_'That's all you're having for breakfast Eames? A shot of whiskey and a cigar?'_

_'Well I wasn't blessed with your ferocious morning appetite love,' Eames retorted to Arthur a few years back. 'Tell me what is your favorite morning ritual?'_

_'If you're wanting something sordid I'm happy to disappoint.'_

_'Oh come now Arthur, you know it's always the quiet ones who have the most naughty hide.'_

_'I'm boring.'_

_'Liar.'_

_'I never miss breakfast. And when I do…'_

_'Go on.'_

_'I just don't, no matter what. Boring enough for you?'_

_'Depends. Where do you eat said breakfast?'_

It didn't take much to goad Arthur into a further teasing verbal spar; something he always delighted in. He remembers Arthur's face slightly turning pink and his lips attempting to twist upward into a cryptic smile. But a call came in and the moment was lost. Lost but not forgotten.

_Maybe I'll just wander up to his room and pretend it was mine, _Eames mind contemplates as he slowly climbs the stairs. He reaches the top of the quiet floor and looks around and frowns; his eyes coming to rest on the door to Arthur's room before he carefully makes his way toward it. He gently jiggles the handle, wanting to give Arthur an opportunity to know someone was coming in before he casually barges into the room.

Silence.

_Odd. _Eames looks at the open bathroom door down the hall and now wonders if perhaps Arthur has already left; and if that was the case he too could slip out after breakfast and never look back. His fingers flex around the handle and gently push it open.

"Arthur?" He calls out softly into the perplexing silence before him before he fully enters. He looks at the window, his mind trying to remember if from his vantage point across the street that this was the same room Arthur was supposed to be staying in. _Maybe I'm in the wrong room? _But as he looks at the familiar piece of packed luggage on the bed and catches a whiff of Arthur's cologne from the small toiletry bag as he picks it up he knows this room belongs to his missing friend; a small smile tugging at his lips as the scent brings back happy memories. But the smile quickly fades to a frown as he realizes the purveyor of those happy memories is now in fact missing.

"Jacket…is still here. Arthur doesn't dare venture outside without it," Eames correctly surmises as his right hand slowly heads toward the left side of his body; his brain now trying to decide whether to pull his gun or not. He picks the lock on Arthur's suitcase, slowly opening it and narrowing his eyes at Arthur's gun still in its case. "Or that. What is going on?"

Eames hurries back into the hallway and heads for the window to look outside; the largest upstairs window that would give him a good view of the entire back yard and if his missing friend was actually outside. Nothing. Only Doug with two of the boys cleaning up something before they all head inside for breakfast and only a barren landscape is left behind.

He casts his worried sapphire gaze back down the hall as his mind now races with a new terrible thought – something happened to Arthur in the middle of the night.

"Where the bloody hell are you darling?"

But just before he can take as step back toward Arthur's bedroom he hears his name and freezes mid-stride.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so if you all remember this was the ending (well most of it) from the original chapter 2 so am so happy that you all liked the story up to now! Okay so Arthur's in a bit of a jam, Eames is on the hunt but hits a roadblock. When will Arthur be rescued? But what happens to our boys after that? Please do read and review and thanks so much!


	6. Further into Despair

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 6 – Further into Despair**

* * *

Eames stares at Doug in wonder before the strange man slowly heads toward him. "Sorry what was that?" He asks in haste, not sure if he actually heard his own name or something else and it was his mind playing tricks on him and his cover's still intact.

"Aims…not very good," Doug replies as he holds up his phone for Eames to see that he's talking to someone else; Eames lips literally uttering a heavy sigh as he nods in agreement. "Did you need something Tim?"

"Nope, just finished here," Eames answers with a tight lipped smile as he slowly moves past. "I'll see you downstairs." He casually strolls past; his mind now racing with wonder if Doug was also perhaps involved in Arthur's disappearance. _Something's not right here, _Eames mind ponders as he reaches the bottom landing. He hears childish laughter coming from down the hall inside the kitchen and lets his mind drift back the day before, watching Arthur play wrestling with the boys and seemingly forgetting about the impending danger.

Eames watches two small boys approach and can't help but give them a strained smile. "Miles right?" He greets.

"Yup and this is Allen. Wanna see what we built outside for the open house?"

Eames looks at the eager faces and wants more than anything to tell the kids to get lost; he was on an important mission – searching for a dear but elusive friend. But he also knows he has to find Cecil and Bryan without making too much of a fuss so gives Miles a nod and tells him to lead the way.

"Love to."

Eames eyes glance back at the darkened stairwell and narrow; not realizing that the three people he was searching for were at the top; carefully concealed behind that locked door. _Arthur if you're in there…damn I hate this._

XXXXXXXX

"Morning sunshine," Bryan pulls the door open to the room Arthur's trapped in and flips on the light; Arthur's brain pulling him from his sleepy stupor and weary eyes squeezing shut for a few seconds as the cruel light bears down upon him, before daring to open them and look up.

Arthur looks at both men as they enter the room, narrowing his gaze but trying not to look at defeated as he feels. He offers a small tug on the cuff and as suspected endures a few snickers and taunting expressions.

"Think he wants to be let go for some reason," Cecil chirps in sarcasm.

"Don't think you get it Arthur. You're not leaving here alive. Got it?" Bryan bends down and looks at him with an angry scowl. "How's the arm this morning?" Bryan taunts as his hand clamps around Arthur's arm wound and gives it a cruel squeeze.

"Mmmph!" Arthur's lips elicit a tormented but muffled growl as his body squirms in place.

"Now…that doesn't hurt does it?" Bryan snickers as he holds on a bit longer. But as he leans in closer, Arthur's head comes right up, clipping him in his bottom lip, forcing it to slightly bust open and Bryan to pull back with a curse.

"Still have some defiance left I see!" Bryan barks angrily as he punches Arthur in the side; Arthur kicking back in response as Bryan pulls back. "Fine have it your way! But your time is up. Today you pay for everything you did! But not here, don't worry," Bryan taunts as he pulls out his knife and presses it up against Arthur's cheek; the blade pressing down and while not cutting open the skin forces Arthur's useless struggles to ease. "See it pays to know the wrong people. I made a deal with an old friend of yours who has helped me arrange transport out of here so I can take you someplace nice and safe and kill you as slow as I want without anyone caring about your absence for a long while."

_Old friend? Around here? Who? Who sold me out? _Unable to speak, Arthur glares back in contempt; Cecil's thick fingers resting on his chin and jerking his face roughly forward.

"This old friend, he told us a lot about you. Seems you've been lying to a lot of people," Bryan accuses as he too squats a few feet away; all three of them now at eye level.

"Told us all about your current business dealings. Very interesting and potentially lucrative. Would explain the fancy duds," Cecil adds with a hint of contempt. "He looks confused. Funny Arthur maybe you only _look_ smart."

_Current? What? Who around here…what the hell is going on?_

"Lovely British chap," Bryan smiles; referring to someone else entirely of course but Arthur's mind racing to formulate a very wrong conclusion. "Didn't mind selling you out; in fact he was almost eager to do it."

"Yeah he came quite cheap also. Better for us."

_British? What the…Eames? No…not possible he…he's in Mombasa…he is right? But he's the only British…not possible. Current dealings? No…no this can't be. Eames wouldn't sell me out like this; he wouldn't betray me to these guys for a price._

"Don't look so confused!" Cecil huffs as Arthur tries to jerk his head free of Cecil's harsh grasp. "You brought his upon yourself! In fact he gave us the merry old idea as he put it."

"And after I'm done extracting my revenge from you…you'll die a slow painful death," Bryan states with an evil whisper as he leans in closer and Arthur feels himself automatically swallow. "You know Cecil and I have had to endure a lifetime of slurs and slander but the one thing we always had was each other's backs! Can you say the same? Betrayed by everyone around you? Poor Arthur, has no one to watch his back. Does anyone even care you're missing!"

_This can't be…Eames wouldn't sell me out for money. There has to be a mistake. Damn, remove the gag and let me at least ask who it is!_

"Guess you finally pissed off the wrong person," Bryan hisses as he delivers a hard blow to Arthur's gut, the restrained point man's body buckling with pain; his lips trying to get a painful gasp past the damp cloth between his lips. "You can try to fool everyone around you but you could never fool us!"

_Ahhhh…_Arthur's eyes water with the second firm blow to his unprotected mid-section. But the pain in his chest was nothing compared to the pain his mind and heart were feeling. _It can't be Eames….it just can't, _he insists as he thinks back to the airport. Eames was the only one to ask where he was headed and then called him on his lie. _Not…ah damn…._Arthur's body sags downward, his weight putting pressure on his cuffed wrists.

"You know lucky for us that I can just leave you here and Garth won't care to look…in fact no one will," Bryan hisses as he grabs a handful of gelled hair and jerks Arthur's head upright. "How does it feel to be sold out?"

"Always a friend who hates you most," Cecil chimes in as Arthur's bites back another painful gasp.

_Eames wouldn't sell me…he wouldn't but...damn what if he did? What if…_

"Say goodnight Arthur. We'll be back later."

The final blow, this time delivered to Arthur's jaw sends him back into the tormented darkness where his mind is forced to ponder if he was really betrayed by someone he at one time wanted to consider a close friend…a brother even.

_Eames…why?_

XXXXXXXX

Eames, still disguised as Tim watches the young boys with their odd contraption and can't help but smile and offer a few words of stale encouragement before he pulls away and slowly wanders toward the back of the large house. In the nighttime the old building gave off a rather 'creepy' air; something that Eames sees hasn't really dissipated during the daylight hours. The house was still 'creepy'.

He pulls his phone and scrolls until he finds Arthur's number, wondering perhaps if he shouldn't just take a chance and call. With what reason? Worry? Concern? _Arthur would see right through it and call you on it and you'd be busted and he'd be pissed, _his mind groans as he shoves his phone back into his jacket pocket and then scans the area where a rundown garage was situated.

_You could always blame a misdial. Yes….misdial…I could say I was calling Ariadne since her name is right above his in the contact list and didn't look…pressed the button and here we are. _That might work, his brain concludes.

With renewed vigor, Eames finger hovers just above the 'send' button; his actions halting as he hears a somewhat gruff good morning in a very familiar voice.

"Morning."

_Bryan…damn_, Eames curses as he once again shoves his phone back into his pocket and turns around. However, as he does he feels his world start to slow – an unexpected object before him forcing his mind to race but the space around him to blur.

"Bryan…morning," Eames manages with a small nod as he glares at Bryan before he moves in an bit closer; wanting his other senses what his heart already knows to be true. _I know that cologne and why does he have a bruised lip? Did he…take Arthur's things? No that's really paranoid but…what the hell is going on?_

"Nice start to the day," Bryan replies with a grin. "Wouldn't you agree Tim?"

_That's…Arthur's jacket. _

_He remembered seeing the jacket in Arthur's room not that long ago and knows that as elusive as Arthur can be, he had been standing near the back with an eye on the front entrance, so unless there's a hidden passageway, Arthur didn't leave – willingly. What is going on? Where's Arthur? Is he still inside or has he been taken? Eames what have you done!_

"Yes. Lovely day so far."

_A warning bell starts to ring loud and clear and if this had been a mere dream and not reality he'd pull his gun and offer the kick and save Arthur. Reality had no side magic show; there was no invisible Calvary waiting to swoop in and rescue you and your friend at a moment's notice. Arthur was trapped and he was stuck. Both were._

As much as he wants to mention the jacket he knows he can't; that could betray his knowledge of the person who actually owns it and stonewall him before he can offer some kind of viable excuse to duck back inside and look for Arthur. Eames eyes narrow as he watches Bryan's hands reaching into the pocket and pulling out something…_oh damn…bloody hell…_he inwardly curses as he watches Bryan's fingers extract Arthur's totem and start to fondle the weighted die. He knows Arthur would never willingly give his token to anyone, much less two unsavory characters that he neither likes or trusts. Arthur's in trouble and his mind was racing as to where he was and what he has to endure. _Because I won't believe he's dead. _

"Ripped off a casino?" Eames retorts as Bryan looks at him and smirks.

"It has no owner," Bryan smirks as he shoves the piece into his own pants pocket; a small gesture that forces Eames to grit his teeth. _Careful…not here, _his brain correctly warns. Normally he would regard the two men before him as a training exercise in basic hand to hand combat skills; but because Arthur was still missing and there were children around he merely rewards Bryan with a tight lipped smile and looks back at Miles and his small group.

"So any plans for today?" He asks in a casual tone.

"Not really," Bryan shrugs. "Just going to have breakfast and shove off. Need to get back to work."

_Work? You lowlife's have no real work…_Eames mind silently hisses. "And what do you do for work?" Eames inquires in as casual a tone as possible.

"A little bit of everything. And you?"

"Thought I'd see what I can help with today," Eames/Tim replies with a small smile. "Anyone other adults still inside? Kinda miss talking about something other than Transformers."

Bryan looks back to see Cecil heading toward them and then looks back to Eames with a shake of his head. "Nope just us."

"Okay. So you like sports then?"

"Not really," Bryan replies with a tight lipped smile before he pulls a cigarette and gestures for Cecil to follow him; both pulling away from Eames with a nonchalant attitude.

It was now obvious to Eames that Arthur was in serious trouble and he was either being kept somewhere inside the house or these two had him moved out last night. He'd first have to take care of the house and then if need be, take Bryan into a small dark room and beat the truth out of him; something he planned to do anyway if they harmed Arthur in the least.

"Anyone seen Doug?" Eames asks in a louder tone so that Bryan could hear.

"Check inside," someone replies back.

"Thanks," Eames mumbles as he heads for the side door, ducking into the shadows and then calling Miles to his side.

"What's wrong mister?" Miles innocently inquires.

"Miles, I have a favor to ask," Eames whispers in haste as he bends down low to the young boy. He pulls out a twenty dollar bill and tucks it into the boy's shirt pocket.

"Wow is that really for me?"

"For you and only you. I need some help and I need you to keep a secret," Eames starts to explain.

"What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to keep Bryan and Cecil busy for as long as you can spare. Just keep them outside. Can you do that?"

"How do I do that?"

"You see that old dog house in the back there. Tell them you need to fix it up for the open house and ask them to help you move it."

"Where?"

"Anywhere."

"Sure but why?"

Eames looks at the young boy and feels his exasperation starting to grow but in reality he was only offering cryptic answers and he couldn't fault the child for being curious; it was his own anxiety at wondering what happened to Arthur that was crippling him inside. _Be as honest as you can._

"Miles, we're playing a little game. They took something very precious to me and they've hidden it away and I am desperate to get it back in good condition before they do more damage. But you can't tell them that I am looking okay?"

"Will I get in trouble?"

"I won't allow it," Eames answers in truth. "Will you help me find my precious item?"

"Sure."

"Please hurry now."

"Okay."

Eames watches Miles heading for the back but feels his breath stop as Miles heads for Doug instead. _Oh bloody hell kid…_ he inwardly curses. But much to his delight and surprise, he watches Doug approach Bryan and Cecil and two other adult males and starts asking for their help; Eames wasting no time in racing back inside and up the wooden staircase. He rushes toward Arthur's room, muttering when he finds the door locked and quickly pulling out a small tool and starting on the lock.

He hears a noise behind him and turns to see a small face watching him intently.

"Looking for my phone," Eames replies in haste as the boy nods and the heads for the stairs and hurries down; Eames frame offering a heavy exhale as he turns back to the lock. A few seconds later a click is heard and he slowly pushes the door open and peers inside. His eyes narrow as he notices all of Arthur's things now missing, in fact it would appear to anyone that the point man had never stepped foot in the room; it even smelt differently.

_Where are you Arthur, _Eames mind races as he turns to his left and gazes at the darkened doorway at the end of the hallway before carefully making his way toward it.

"Naturally locked," Eames offers a whispered groan as he pulls out his small tool once again and deftly picks the lock, pulling his gun as he slowly enters; relocking the door behind him. The first thing he notices on the bed is Arthur's open suitcase, the two ruffians obviously going through the point man's clothing offerings and taking what they wanted. He looks down at the guns and then around the empty room and starts to ponder a horrible thought – they killed him in the middle of the night and his body was already deposited. Maybe that's how they got the token? Arthur would ne…his mind stops as he hears a soft 'clinking' sound to his left.

Eames turns and looks at the front of a small doorway which he had assumed was merely a closet and hurries toward it; slowly pulling the door open and not realizing that the clock had now started to tick against him.

"Oh bloody hell," he softly curses as he gazes at the sight before him; Arthur's semi-unconscious frame gagged and handcuffed to the radiator and looking very worked over; dried blood from his nose and mouth pooled around the edges of the white fabric between his lips. After carefully closing the door behind him he ventures further into Arthur's small prison.

For a few seconds longer his mind wants to remain in his own natural dream world, coming back to reality a little too painful to ponder. But as Arthur slowly comes back to reality and hears shuffling he figures he might as well face his captors with as much angry determination as he can muster. But as his eyes flutter open he looks at the face before him and shakes his head before closing his eyes once more.

"Welcome back darling," Eames offers in haste as he removes the wig and yanks off the phony mustache; shoving both in his pocket.

The familiar husky voice registers in his throbbing brain as Arthur's eyes slowly open and try to focus on the figure crouched down before him; gun in hand. Arthur's angry dark gaze finally registers the warm blue orbs before him seconds before they narrow in contempt. Had he been able to actually get words past the thick damp cloth drawn tightly between his lips he would have cursed the person before him. But all he can do is helplessly tug on the cuffs keeping him trapped to the rusted radiator and wonder if Eames had actually betrayed him.

_Eames? What the hell are you doing here!_

This reunion wasn't going to be a pleasant one.

* * *

**A/N:** okay so Eames has found Arthur but think the reunion will be a pleasant one? How much time does Eames have? What explanation will he offer Arthur? Will Arthur be happy or angry to see his rescuer and what other secrets are left to unfold? Hope you are all still liking this and please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	7. A Strained Reunion

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 7 – A Strained Reunion**

* * *

"Welcome back darling," Eames offers in haste as he removes the wig and yanks off the phony mustache; shoving both in his pocket before Arthur has a chance to see them.

The familiar husky voice registers in his throbbing brain as Arthur's eyes slowly open and try to focus on the figure crouched down before him; gun in hand. Arthur's angry dark gaze finally registers the warm blue orbs before him seconds before they narrow in contempt. Had he been able to actually get words past the thick damp cloth drawn tightly between his lips he would have cursed the person before him. But all he can do is helplessly tug on the cuffs keeping him trapped to the rusted radiator and wonder if Eames had actually betrayed him.

_Eames? What the hell are you doing here!_

This reunion wasn't going to be a pleasant one.

"Have you free in a second love," Eames kneels down beside Arthur and gently tugs the damp cloth from between his lips. However, instead of a thanks he's not quite prepared for what Arthur says next.

"Your timing as always is impeccable Eames! Suddenly not happy with your handiwork?" Arthur growls as he tries to kick at Eames; the surprised forger backing up and looking down at the younger man in genuine surprise.

"Pardon? Figured you wanted some help. Unless this is a fantasy role play that I'm not allowed to participate in? That's kind of a shame since I'm sure I could hav…"

"Participate in? I'm like this because of you!" Arthur hisses as his weary frame tugs on the handcuffs in vain.

"Look, you're obviously mist…."

"Mistaken? Right because I'm the one that did this to myself! Do you have any id….mmmph!" Is all Arthur manages before Eames shoves the gag back into Arthur's mouth and stares at him with a small frown; Arthur glaring back in heated anger.

"Actually I've wanted to do that for a while now," Eames states lightly as Arthur narrows his eyes at him. "I have no idea what you're on about but I do know that there are two very angry men downstairs that are plotting your demise and by the looks of it, I'm the only one coming to your rescue. You need me darling whether you want to admit it or not," Eames concludes with a small wink as Arthur keeps his angry gaze but slumps back against the radiator. "Now…let's try this again shall we?" Eames sighs as he reaches in for the gag. "You promise me you'll not accuse me of something I have no idea about until we are away from here and I can try to explain why I'm really here I will let you go from your rather tight predicament. Yes?"

Knowing that if he wants his freedom he has no choice but to comply, Arthur offers a small nod and then takes a deep breath after Eames tugs the gag from his mouth a second time.

"For the record I had no part in this bu…" is all Eames manages before he hears angry voices, and more than two, nearing the first door to the bedroom and knows in a matter of moments he'd be in for a world of trouble also. Unless? "Oh damn…not good. Sorry love but…"

"Eames, get me out of this right now. We'll figu…mmph!" Arthur states in haste before Eames shoves the gag back into his mouth a second time and pulls back. _Eames! EAMES! _Arthur tries in anger as he pulls on the cuffs keeping him trapped. But Eames has only seconds as he is able to dart into a small linen closet before the second door opens and Bryan and Cecil and two other men appear.

As much as he wanted Eames to surprise them from the closet, Arthur knows it would be one against four and he would end up being their bargaining chip – they hold him and Eames was a good as caught also. He knows he'll have to endure this misery until a moment of escape for both of them would be presented. And then? _The truth! Why the hell is Eames here?_

"Miss us Arthur?" Bryan mocks as Eames narrows his gaze through the slats in the small door; watching his helpless friend's frame struggle to get at least upright but in reality having nowhere to go.

"Oh don't look so angry, it's not our fault you pissed off the wrong person. And I don't mean your British friend! Him we bought off quite easily. Yeah I think it was thirty pieces of silver," Bryan mocks. "That's the price of the ultimate betrayal right?"

_British friend…who sold…betrayed…oh damn no wonder Arthur was so angry. They must not have said a name but who…_Eames mind races as he watches Cecil lean in closer; Eames eyes not seeing a small needle hidden in the fold of his palm.

"Like the jacket? I think it looks better on me than you; not like you'll miss it right? But I do have to wonder, what's this for?" Bryan frowns as he pulls out Arthur's token; forcing the weary point man's mind to explode with fresh anger. "A weighted die. Interesting. Never pictured you as much of a gambler but then there's a few things about you that seem a real mystery. Too bad you won't have time to fill me in on all the sordid details of your life. Time's up for that," Bryan looks from Arthur's continued angry expression to Cecil's.

"Ready to take a ride? Oh don't worry, no one here will miss you. In fact no one will ever miss you again!" Cecil growls as he motions to one of the other men to undo the right handcuff; temporarily freeing Arthur's hand and then unlooping the handcuff from around the metal pole. But as soon as it's free, Arthur's fist balls and lands in the nose of the man closest, forcing the angry man to pull back and Bryan to offer a swift punch to his back; Arthur's lips uttering a painful gasp as he bites down into the gag and his body doubles forward back to his knees.

"Frank will take that feistiness out of you," Bryan hisses as Arthur's right arm is pulled behind his back and re-cuffed. "Figured you wouldn't come willingly," Bryan nods to Cecil as he steps up; his back to Eames and the forger cursing in his mind as he watches Cecil loom in closer to Arthur's captive frame, seeming to talk to him. But a few seconds later, Arthur's frame sags to the floor and Eames eyes narrow as he watches Cecil shove the used needle into a small cylinder and then into his pocket.

With Arthur unconscious and about to be delivered to someone who he surmises wants him dead, Eames mind races as to how he can run interference, keep Arthur safe until he's awake all the while keeping the four men at bay. _Where to hide? _Eames mind ponders as he watches the other two each take an arm and bodily drag Arthur out the door and into the other room.

_Doug's car is just outside…get the car and follow…run interference before they arrive at Frank's. Who's Frank? _But he knows he'd have to ponder that tidbit from Arthur's past later as he hears the outer door close and quickly springs into action. Eames slips into the quiet hallway and hurries toward the back staircase, wondering where they had gotten to. However, he doesn't have to wait long as he hears a small creak and quickly stops.

"Who the hell are you?" A gruff voice hisses in Eames ear as one of the thugs leans in closer, the butt end of a gun pointing into his back.

"Figment of your imagination," Eames huffs as his right elbow shoots back, catches the unsuspecting thug in the stomach, his right heel pivoting as he turns and sends his left fist into the jaw of the thug. He counters and punches Eames in the jaw before Eames body slams into his and the two of them fall to the floor. But Eames inner determination to save Arthur wins out as he deals the thug the final blow and his body slumps to the floor in an unconscious heap.

"Damn," Eames curses as he quickly pushes himself up off the man's frame and drags him down the hall and shoves his body into one of the rooms and pulls the door closed, just as Cecil appears. Cecil looks at him with a frown; Eames praying that he had hid the body on the floor before he could try to draw Cecil in and then have only two to contend with.

"How are things going down there?" Eames, once again disguised as Tim asks in haste.

"Fine; everyone's coming inside to have some kind of team meeting and then get their various assignments. What's going on?"

"Forgot my um…pills," Eames offers with a mock stammer. "So everyone's inside then? Is Garth back?"

"On his way. One of the painters said he had to use the facilities. Did you see anyone up here by chance?"

"Just one of the kids," Eames replies as he takes a few steps closer, his right hand ready to draw his weapon and take Cecil out of the game if necessary. But before he can do that, both of them hear footsteps coming up the stairs and Eames can only grit his teeth as Miles and another boy appear.

"Okay thanks," Cecil nods, holding Eames gaze a few seconds longer before he turns and heads toward the very end of the hall and disappears into another doorway and out of view.

"Miles, what's down there?"

"Fire escape."

"Course," Eames whispers as he playfully ruffles the boys hair and pushes past, taking the first set of stairs down and exiting the building on the side and carefully heading around to the back yard. He stops just before he rounds the corner and scans the quiet landscape, his eyes finally resting on the small door to the garage and then looking up to see the fire escape door right beside it.

He looks around before daring to race toward Doug's car, pull the wires below the steering column and get it started just as the door to the rundown garage opens and a dark sedan with tinted windows emerges and pulls into the alleyway.

Eames waits a few seconds before entering the alley and following at what he considers is a discreet distance. But Eames mind starts to feel panic building as he glances up in the rear view mirror and notices the same car make the same turn as him; the same turn it had for the past few turns.

"Damn tail," he huffs as he slams on his breaks and the car behind is forced to do the same, swerving at the last minute to avoid hitting him. His right foot then presses down on the gas; the car ahead with Arthur captive in the backseat swerving to the left and the man in the backseat appearing seconds before gunfire rings out in the quiet neighborhood.

"Not good," Eames mutters as he pulls his gun and after the window is down fires off a few shots, hoping to take out the tires and take them out of the game. But he's the one that finds himself swerving to dodge the bullets, holding his breath a few seconds as the rear passenger window shatters behind him.

The car that was pursuing finally catches up, slamming into the passenger side door and forcing Eames to try to counter, his hands frantically grappling with the steering wheel as he manages to keep the car he's in from slamming into some parked cars and taking him out of the chase.

"Two can play this game," he growls as he swerves to the right, slamming into the other car and pushing it toward a cement bulkhead; Eames pulling back seconds before the other car collides with the heavy piece of concrete, once again threatening to take him out of the game and lose Arthur for good.

The drugs were a mild sedative and not designed to keep him under for very long, just long enough to manage him out of the building and into the car that would deliver him to his would be killer. _What the hell…_Arthur's mind groans as his eyes slowly flutter open. His mind replays the last few moments before the drugs, being hit by Bryan, coming too once more but staring into a rather familiar face – Eames face. _Did I imagine that? Did I really see Eames or did I just imagine he was there to help get me free? _

He looks up into the scowling face of a stranger and feels his heart sink. _I did just imagine it and my predicament is worse now. damn! _But a few seconds later, his body jerks to the right as the back seat of the car he's in, is hit from behind and he's forced to reconsider his conclusion. _Eames? _His mind offers hopefully as he tries to sit upright. _Is that's who's chasing us? If so then this might not be the end at all_

"Stay down!" The man in the back hisses as Cecil turns around and narrows his gaze.

"Who the hell is that guy?"

_Has to be Eames…do something to slow them down…you can't let them take you to Frank. Frank? But why Frank? Either way, you get there and you're as good as dead! _Arthur's mind reminds him of the very real truth about his tight predicament. So despite the fact that his arms were at the moment useless thanks to the cuffs, he looks up at the man leaning out the back window, firing at Eames and uses his left shoulder to try to knock the man off kilter. The ploy works and the shot that had been aiming for Eames side of the windshield jerks to the left and pings off the passenger side mirror.

"Arthur, love you're awake," Eames notes to himself as he watches the man before him pull back and the firing stop. "Be right there."

"You didn't give him enough of the damn drugs!" The thug named Adam growls as he tries to get Arthur onto the floor. Arthur's foot comes up; his back pressed against the right side of the car, keeping the other man at bay.

"Turn and ram this damn bastard!" Cecil barks at Bryan behind the wheel; Bryan's foot slamming on the breaks and causing Eames car to slam into the back of the one Arthur was in and forcing the captive point man's weary frame to roll onto the floor and groan; doing Adam's job for him.

Eames pushes down on the gas, forcing the car with Arthur in the back to sputter back to life and try to get away. But the chase is short lived as the car tries to take a sharp turn and ends up spinning a complete 360 and slamming into another parked car.

Adam, the man in the back beside Arthur fires at Eames, forcing Eames to duck but quickly pop back up and fire again, taking Adam out for good. The action forces both Cecil and Bryan to duck allowing Eames a few seconds to act. Wasting no time, Eames quickly leaves the front seat, racing toward the front of the car to pull Bryan out from behind the wheel when Cecil pops up first and starts to fire. Eames feels the heat of the bullets whizzing past him but knows he has to press on. He fires back at Cecil as Arthur manages to get himself back up onto the backseat and try to get at Bryan and hinder him long enough for Eames to get there and take him out.

"Tim?" Cecil growls at Eames as they finally come face to face.

_Tim? _Arthur's mind races as he hears Cecil's angry demand. _Why the hell is Tim here and where's Eames? What is going on?_

"Who the hell are you really?"

"Your worst nightmare," Eames retorts as he fires off as shot that clips Cecil in the shoulder and forces his body to jerk backward long enough for Eames to rush toward Bryan, grabbing his arm through the busted window and delivering a swift blow to his jaw just as he fires off a shot.

Arthur's legs kick at Bryan, giving Eames just enough time to bodily get Bryan dragged from the front seat and himself into the drivers spot; pulling away from the curb at top speed and leaving two trails of black rubber in his wake.

"Hello again darling. Together again," Eames smirks as he finally sheds the wig and mustache for good and then glances into the rearview mirror; Arthur looking back with a furious gaze as Eames just smiles.

"I can explain but later. First we must get you someplace safe," Eames mentions as he swerves to the right and Arthur's body slams back down onto the back seat; his lips offering an angry growl.

But as Eames glances into his own side mirror to see Bryan and Cecil regrouping and heading for the other car his mind now ponders to very painful realizations. That they were nowhere near out of the woods and running out of time and places to hide and two…._bloody hell…I've been shot._

However, it was time to push aside his own pain and get them a secure place to hide. "You're in high demand darling," Eames growls as he turns the car sharply to the right, Arthur's legs quickly bracing himself against the backseat to keep himself from falling back to the floor; his lips trying to get an angry curse past the damp gag. "Now I don't have time to make another bargain with you but you know this area and I need some help navigating us to a safe place. So if I take that out you will help me yes?"

Arthur's eyes merely narrow as he and Eames lock glances for a few seconds in the rear view mirror before he is once again thrown to the right and his agitation increases.

"I'm on your side here," Eames tries to explain. "Now be a good pet and just help me here!" Eames huffs as the car slams to the right. Eames hand reaches into the back and yanks the gag from Arthur's mouth before his hand returns back to the wheel to counter a would-be spin. "We need a place to hide."

"Tim? You were Tim?" Is the first thing Arthur hisses in anger.

"I said I'd explain later."

"How the hell could you play me like that?" Arthur growls as Eames brow furrows.

"You want that back in?" Eames retorts.

"Try it!"

"If you don't help us, me trying to shut you up will be the least of our problems! Now where?" Eames demands.

"Two blocks down. Sharp left and then right and then duck into the undr…"

"I see it," Eames quickly compensates for the turn, controlling the skid and ducking into the underground parking lot and hiding in a darkened alcove; the banged up car bearing Clyde and Bryan speeding past the sharp turn and exiting onto the busy street and heading in the opposite direction.

Eames turns off the engine; remaining in place a few seconds as his hand feels the graze on his side, his lips uttering a thankful exhale that the wound was only superficial. But when he turns around to face Arthur, his face frowns at he notes the small scowl.

"Tim? What the hell Eames?"

"Still can't give a bloke a break I see."

"Not that I'm grateful for the rescue, but why are you here and disguised as someone else?" Arthur demands as he tries to shift to a better position; the wound in this arm throbbing but his mind biting it back.

"I was lonely."

"You're never _that_ lonely. The truth – now."

"I was in the neighborhood," Eames answers with a small chirp from the right side of his face. "Not that I can't think of fun things to do with you in those cuffs love, but if you'll twist around I'll have them off in a moment."

"Why are you here Eames?" Arthur asks again as he remains where he is.

"Blame my curious nature," Eames retorts before his expression turns serious. "That's the truth. You offered me a lie at the airport like you do after every job, only this time I had time to actually see for myself why. To be honest it wasn't what I expected. Now lean forward, or…maybe you like this also?" Eames playfully wags his brows.

"When we are not on a job, messing in my personal life is off limits!" Arthur lightly scolds as he glares at Eames in anger. "You forged Tim's life?"

"Just his looks and I just borrowed them temporarily. Trust me I won't be keeping them. Now lean forward or maybe you want me to use force?" He smirks; Arthur's agitation finally getting the best of him as he twists around to the right and offers his cuffed wrists to Eames. Arthur looks to his left, Eames leaning in a little closer than he had anticipated and forcing him to pull back slightly.

"I won't bite...very hard," Eames teases as he reaches down and undoes the cuffs, Arthur pulling back and giving his chaffed wrists a tender rub.

"Knew I heard that line somewhere before and not from Tim Charland," Arthur retorts dryly.

"Old habits love," Eames gently frowns. "What can I say you bring out the naughty in me."

"I'm glad you can make jokes at a time like this," Arthur lightly hisses as he pushes himself from the backseat and heads toward the wall; Eames slowly existing the car but hanging back.

"I don't need all the details, but I would like to know why I just ran interference for the two men trying to kill you, or deli…"

"How do you know them Eames?" Arthur cuts him off bluntly.

"I don't know them. And that is the truth," Eames replies seriously.

"I was told that you set me up. Called them from LA to say I was coming here. They knew stuff about the job that only someone on the team or very close to it would know."

"They mentioned my name?"

"British, name starts with an E plus the job stuff. So unless you have an invisible twin I haven't met yet, what else am I supposed to think?"

"Okay I admit that the bits I too overheard were disconcerting at best but I can assure you that I would never sell you out. I value our friendship. Besides why would I sell you out and then come and rescue you? Darling my life isn't _that_ boring."

Arthur looks at Eames before he offers him a firm nod; his hands rubbing his face as he turns to the side. "We need to leave."

"Come on, you'll have to do better than that."

"I appreciate you setting me free Eames but I got this okay? Go back to Mombasa, for real this time and let me handle my own affairs."

"Oh you know I can't do that."

"Try. Hard."

"You go out there alone and unarmed you won't get very far. Oh I know you are clever and know your way around this neighborhood but someone sold you out and they want you dead and that someone is still on the hunt. We have one gun, one car and one chance but only if we work together. Like it or not darling you're stuck with me."

"I can handle this on my own," Arthur glares at Eames.

"Don't make me recuff you and force the truth out of you," Eames dares.

"I'd like to see you try now that I'm awake and not about to let you," Arthur pulls back with a firm expression.

"_Let me_? Is that a challenge?" Eames wags his brows, earning himself a small pursed-lipped scowl from the man before him. "You know I'm always up for a challenge."

"Next time," Arthur huffs as he tries to turn around. Eames hand shoots out and grabs Arthur by his angry wound forcing him to pull back with an angry growl.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Arthur gently wheezes as he pulls back with a pained expression. "I'm fine."

"Liar," Eames counters as he leans in closer. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine?"

"Your what?" Arthur asks dryly as Eames pulls back his jacket; but just before he can reveal his own wound, they both hear a noise and turn in surprise; Eames instinctively pulling Arthur behind him as his gun readies to fire.

* * *

**A/N:** okay so our boys are finally together at last but now what? Who's there? And will the truth finally come out? Maybe but first a bit of patching up and some explaining to do so please do review before you go (and I hope those that have alerted but not reviewed yet will – that would mean so much for all the time and effort put into this) and thanks so much!


	8. Back through the Looking Glass

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 8 – Back through the Looking Glass**

* * *

"Hold on there mister, I ain't got no money," the older man in tattered clothing stammers as he quickly raises his hands; Eames looking at him with an angry scowl before Arthur steps out from behind the protective forger.

"He's not going to shoot you," Arthur groans as his hand rests on Eames gun and slowly pushes it down. "Right _Timothy?_" He glares as Eames face offers a small wince before he nods and lowers his gun.

"Is there a place to clean up around here?"

"Eames…"

"My friend has been hurt."

"I'm fine," Arthur snaps as he turns and heads for the car.

"I just told you the truth and now you owe me an explanation. Your arm needs tending to. There a bathroom around here?"

"Eames."

"Hush love or that gag is going back in," Eames winks as Arthur's face enflames, the older man looking at both of them in amusement before he gestures with his head for them to follow after him. "We both need to get cleaned up," Eames states in a low tone before he shoves his gun into his shoulder holster.

"Where to?" Arthur asks in resignation as the man turns and disappears through a small door; a few seconds later Arthur and Eames following, carefully making their way down the dimly lit hallway and emerging about five minutes later into a small windowless room where another older man in tattered clothing looks up in wonder.

"You brought company?"

"These boys just need to use the bathroom."

"Suits me," the other man shrugs as he looks at Arthur and Eames with raised brows. "You two boys in trouble or somethin'?"

"Just a street fight."

"Where does this hallway lead?" Eames asks in haste.

"Subway tunnel. You boys got bus fare?"

"Yeah we got it thanks," Arthur replies with a kind tone before the turns and heads for the bathroom where Eames was waiting.

"Strip," Eames instructs as Arthur raises his brows in amusement. But a few seconds later he slowly removes his jacket, both of them wincing in unison at the bloody patch that has soaked through from the wound. "Continue."

"I'm okay really," Arthur hisses as he slowly removes his ruined dress shirt and looks at Eames with a heavy frown. "Hurts like hell."

"Ah so you are human after all," Eames heavily frowns as he turns on the water and gestures for Arthur to sit on the edge of the counter. "So since we have some time…who's Frank and why does he want to kill you? What happened in the past that is still very much alive today?"

"You don't want to know how I ended up where I did or what happened to my real family?" Arthur turns back with a somewhat defeated expression.

"Figured we'd save that for a fireside chat with some good scotch," Eames replies with a warm smile.

"Away from the bullets and handcuffs?" Arthur quips.

"Bullets at least," Eames teases, earning a small smirk from Arthur before both their expressions turn serious. "I like to know what I'm up against."

Arthur gives Eames a small stubborn head shake, making the forger actually ponder the possibility of slapping the cuffs back on the stubborn point man and forcing the truth from him. "It really is no big deal Eames. This is my mess."

"I know what is bothering you but it wasn't me," Eames reinforces in a softer tone. "I wouldn't do that to you. I only work to gain your trust not destroy it by betraying you. You know that."

"Okay," Arthur agrees as his eyes lock with Eames a few seconds longer and he knows he owes him at least part of the story. "I was at Garth's for twelve years; I was left there as a kid by my parents and I left as soon as I graduated. During that time Garth…he…I know those two moron's said Garth is a part of this but I can't believe it," Arthur tries to insist; his face wincing as he hears Cecil's snickering voice taunting him about Garth betraying him and never having his back.

"Sorry," Eames whispers as he pushes into Arthur's bloody wound with a bit too much pressure.

"Those two…it wasn't the easiest place to grow up but it gave me a thick skin and…"

"Destroyed any hope of imagination."

"Imagination died there. Bet you never thought I had such a good reason for being such a stick in the mud," Arthur tosses at Eames, earning himself a brief pursed-lipped frown from his rescuer. "Forced me to be guarded but deep inside I always wanted someone to want to take me under their wing and allow that imagination to grow again. Call it a boyhood fantasy…call it pathetic, whatever. Never happened. Just the opposite in fact. One night I met Frank and things changed – for the worse. It was the night of my graduation. A group of us went out for drinks and after party. We went to some club. We were…" Arthur's voice trails off as he looks away and exhales heavily. "One minute we were laughing and drinking and just having a good time and the next we were in the back room, interrupting some guy's high stakes poker party and ending up on the wrong end of a losing bet."

"Frank."

"The guy he was playing said he staged the drunken teen interruption so he could take the money and call it a night. The other guy split with his money, my friends ran and I was too drunk to make sense of it all. They went one way and I went the wrong way and ended up in a cellar that night; morning comes and Frank's telling me that if I helped him out he'd forget the fact that I lost him money."

"You lost?" Eames asks in concern; his mind trying not to picture Arthur alone, scared and at the mercy of a man will only ill intent on his mind.

"He's never been very understanding. I told him it wasn't my fault but he said I had to do this and he'd forgive me and all would just be water under the bridge."

"And…you did?"

"I didn't know any better and he offered me a good deal of money, at least it was back then to a kid with only a few bucks in his pocket and nothing else. I had earned my way into University on the merit of good grades and a small scholarship but I was broke, no way to pay for the anything past the first six months so said yes. I just wanted to get out of that house. It was a middle man job and I was too scared to cross Frank. Did the job, went to collect my money and figured that was it."

"It wasn't," Eames states more than questions as he pauses in his cleaning Arthur's arm.

"Next thing I knew Frank was convincing me I was not only a good middle man but I should take the lead in setting the next deal up. Said I had sharp instincts, was clever…all the stuff someone naïve wants to hear right? And it wasn't just the money. He made it seem like I was helping him deal the baddies some of their own medicine; like it was because of me these guys would think twice about certain things. I did three more jobs for him as his point man, putting every single cent into a locker down by the docks. Then one night…" Arthur pauses as he leans against the wall, resting his head and closing his eyes a few seconds as Eames gently wraps some gauze from the first aid kit around his arm, his side begging for some attention but his mind and heart wanting to hear the rest of Arthur's tormented past and how it was now affecting their future.

Arthur opens his eyes and looks at Eames with a small frown; his warm brown eyes holding glimpses of pain and torment as he was forced to recall his stormy past.

"I'm sorry," Eames offers softly.

"You asked right?"

"I meant about making you wince."

"Ah."

"But I am sorry about your past."

"I go into Frank's to tell him I was done and Bryan and Cecil were there. Course I was upset and said I was outta there, turned around to leave when Frank's hand lands on my shoulder. I freeze for a few seconds when he drops the bomb…"

_'Arthur we've hit the big time now. The job in two days…'_

_'Frank I'm out. I don't work with these two and…'_

_'It will put one hundred grand in your pocket – personally.'_

"Hundred grand for each of you? Kinda hard to turn that down."

"I couldn't think straight. I looked past Frank to the two people I loathed but all I could tell myself was I needed the money. I had done three jobs just like this one only this was serious money. I do it and I'd have my ticket to university and all my problems gone. I'd never have to work for Frank again. I was done."

"You said yes," Eames interjects.

"I told him I was in and then he told me there was a small change. I was to be the transporter. I told him I don't drive; I set things up and then let him do the rest. Frank said there really was no choice and said if I didn't do this last job for him that Garth would pay with his life. I was confused and scared…damn I was a stupid kid caught up in the wrong game and now it seemed too late to back out. Plus, no matter what I liked Garth, he was the only one that ever really gave a damn. Frank assured me that he was going to be the one doing the deal and all I had to do was wait for my cue and drive in with the money; Bryan and Cecil were my backup and the trunk had the cash. We set up and then I pulled away to check something. I come back and just before I go to confirm the details with Cecil and Bryan I get a call from a trusted friend turned informant. He told me that the guy we were going to do the deal with was working with the FBI and it was all a setup to get Frank and his client list. Well obviously I didn't want to go to jail and knew Frank would turn on me in a heartbeat so I left. I didn't wait for Cecil and Bryan. I got in the car and took off."

"The car with all the money in it?"

"Half a mil."

"Bloody hell."

"I dropped it off at underground parking lot, called Frank and then I headed for the docks. Frank tried to talk me out of it, said I was making a mistake and I was basically dead if I ran. But I knew I'd be making a mistake if I stayed. Frank was the only one who knew where all the money was. From what Bryan said last night, Frank took the money, skipped out on them and then gave up Cecil and Bryan and they did jail time. I never kept in touch, I didn't care and don't now. I left and never looked back. Went to Paris and then I met Cobb and Mal."

"But you came back."

"Good timing right?"

"Doubt it would have mattered when you came back, sounds like the bad blood was left to fester."

"Frank was never a standup guy but I doubt this is all about him. He got the money and even got Cecil and Bryan to take the fall for him and do jail time. I think this is all them. Would have been different if I had taken the money but I didn't. This is all Bryan. Like he said, he never liked me. I know hard to believe right?" Arthur concludes with a nervous chuckle. "Thanks for the help with this," Arthur replies with a soft whisper as Eames finishes bandaging his arm and steps back with a concerned expression. "That is the whole truth."

"No I believe you," Eames half whispers. "Your head wound is bleeding again. Hold still," he states as he dampens the cloth and gently dabs the fresh smattering of blood on Arthur's smooth skin. "Think they'd call Frank and ask for a favor?"

"From someone with a British accent?"

"If it even was British," Eames huffs as tosses the bloody rag into the nearby garbage can and looks back at Arthur in wonder. "You know this will be a fight to the death; them or us. No matter what, you have questions and Garth owes you the truth."

"Eames…"

"We get rid of the two sods following us and then we go back…"

"Home?" Arthur sighs as he rubs his weary face and hops off the countertop, tossing his ruined dress shirt into the garbage and reaching for the jacket that Eames had given him earlier; not his but one that would have to do.

"Home," Eames groans as he twists oddly and his face winces.

"What…was that?"

"Nothing."

"I showed you mine now…show me," Arthur demands as Eames growls under his breath and pulls off his jacket. "My turn to say bloody hell…you've been shot?"

"Just a scratch," Eames stammers in his defense.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Would you?"

"That isn't fair," Arthur argues back.

"After this is all over love I'll let you nurse me back to health."

"Was it a through and through?"

"Just a scratch."

"Nurse you back to health my ass," Arthur mutters under his breath as he glares at Eames. "It at least needs a band-aide."

"I'll be…"

"Strip."

"Darling why when you say that does it sound like such naughty fun?" Eames teases as Arthur rolls his eyes but then growls under his breath.

"This is more than a scratch."

"Fine it's a graze. It that more of an American term?" Eames retorts. "Use them sparingly, we only have two left."

"By the time you need another we'll be in a better place."

"Promises promises," Eames huffs as he lifts up his undershirt and lets Arthur tend to the wound on his side. "Do you trust Garth?"

"I don't trust anyone," Arthur replies simply as he cleans the wound on Eames side, pausing for a few seconds before continuing. "I trust the team…most of them."

"Arthur…"

"I know it wasn't you Eames," Arthur looks up in seriousness; their eyes locking for a few seconds of understanding before he looks back down and continues. "Was just surprised when I saw you and…you pretended to be Tim. Tim, damn you sat beside me at breakfast yesterday."

"And I swear my blood pressure has never been higher," Eames groans as Arthur's face finally softens.

"You do anything else you wanna share with me right now?"

"About your past?" Eames inquires as Arthur nods and Eames considers his next words wisely. "You said you'd tell me your side of the story and how you ended up here; what happened to your family and all that and I'm willing to wait. Right now we're dealing with Bryan and Garth. I was just going to observe and if all went well…leave. Glad I stuck around."

"So am I," Arthur confesses in truth as he gently presses the edges of the band-aide around Eames wound and then pulls his undershirt back down. "Glad that sixth sense of yours was working."

"Thanks for the nursing."

"At least you didn't ask me to wear a costume."

"Don't tell me you would have?" Eames wags his brows, forcing a small snicker from Arthur's weary lips. "Is that the threat of an imagination coming through there love?"

"Maybe," Arthur smirks before his face finally turns serious. "We have to leave now," Arthur suddenly blurts out before he turns and exits the small bathroom and reemerges into the room where the two older men look up in wonder. "Thanks for the help. You know we never got your names."

"I'm Fred and this is Barney," the older man replies with a heavy sigh. "Our mother screwed us on purpose."

"Brothers?" Eames states in wonder.

"Both lost our wives a few years back and then our jobs and now…we do okay. Got a tax free roof over our heads and…well usually a well-rounded meal. At least one a day."

"One?"

"Times are tough these days. You boys gonna be okay?"

"You've done enough already thanks."

"We don't mind."

"We don't want anyone else mixed up in this," Arthur answers in haste before Eames can ask them for the route to the subway.

"We can use their help," Eames leans in and whispers in Arthur's ear; Arthur's face turning but pulling back before he physically bump into him.

"We're used to trouble," Fred pipes up. "You just tell us what you need."

"Arthur, let's…"

"Thanks for the use of your bathroom gentlemen," Arthur tells the two older men as his hands reach into the foreign jacket in search of his wallet to give them whatever he had. "But we have to get going – alone." He quickly realizes that his wallet is not in his jacket and he looks over at Eames in the hopes his friend will get the silent visual hint. Eames does; offering both men whatever cash he had in his wallet as a thanks and then hurries after Arthur, catching up to him back in the garage.

"They know this place better than us."

"No more outside help or we part ways now."

"I don't think so love. Remember I said you're stuck with me," Eames utters before he quickly catches up and takes Arthur by the arm and turns him to face him. "What's your plan?"

"This is about me. I started it and I'm going to finish it," Arthur jerks his arm free. "And don't threaten with the damn cuffs because you know I won't let you."

"Another challenge I'll take up after this is over," Eames replies with a small smile before his face turns serious again.

"I'm not looking for a bloodbath or to offer myself to them just so they can kill me. But I would like a few answers from Garth."

"You'll never get past Bryan and Cecil if you don't deal with them first. They've threatened your life and you know they won't rest until you're dead. They've taken your jacket, your suitcase, your token…"

"My…damn it really?" Arthur curses as he turns away in frustration. "I have to end this Eames. But I know if they're not outside, they'll be waiting for us back at the home. There are innocent children there. I won't chance a firefight. I can always buy new clothes. Maybe we should just leave this damn place already. It was wrong of me to come back for whatever reason."

"It wasn't wrong," Eames states firmly; the hint of anger in his tone forcing Arthur's gaze to look back at him. "You've earned the right to take that sod Bryan out back and kick his ass in truth Arthur fashion. You've earned the right to put that loud mouthed ass Cecil in his place and you've earned the right to look Garth in the eye and ask for the truth, otherwise you'll have this nagging doubt with you and we all know the danger of a nagging doubt left to blossom in our minds eh?"

Arthur looks at the sincere expression on Eames face and finds himself mentally giving in before his face can offer a verbal nod. "Going into a job with personal distractions could be the death of the team. You know I'd never take that chance with any of our lives."

"You need to finish this today," Eames states in truth as he leans in closer. "And I'm going to help you. Believe it or not but I've actually grown quite fond of having you around," Eames confesses in a serious tone. "Ready?"

"Eames we have, one car, one gun and we're both injured?"

"I know, I love our odds also darling. Shall we?" Eames grins as he slaps Arthur on the back before handing him the gun.

"As soon as we pull out of here Cecil and Bryan will run us down hard."

"Then we shall lead them on a merry Chase," Arthur retorts as Eames face lights up at the familiar sentiment that they had traded on their last inception job.

But just before they can turn around, the older man named Fred appears in the doorway with an anxious expression.

"They're here!"

* * *

**A/N:** hope you all liked the heart to heart confession between our boys and of course their plan to stick together and take down Bryan and Cecil and get Arthur the answers he's searching for from Garth and also about his past. Will Eames find out the complete truth about Arthur? Will Arthur learn that Eames had dug a bit too deep into his past and is Garth really good or bad? Please do review and let me know how this chapter was (a bit slower so hope it wasn't boring and you are still liking the story) but the action comes back next so stay tuned and thanks!


	9. Fight for the Future

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 9 – Fight for the Future**

* * *

"Who's here?" Arthur turns and asks sharply; his eyes darting to Eames inquisitive expression before he looks at the old man before him.

"Why reinforcements of course," Fred simply pronounces as both Inception experts exchange wondering glances.

"Come again?" Eames wonders. But a few seconds later they both watch about half dozen underground people all dressed in well worn clothes emerge from the shadows and stand behind Fred.

"You boys need some backup right? I was in the army and I know a thing or two about a fight."

"This doesn't involve any of you."

"We could use the distraction," Eames rebuts as Arthur looks at him crossly. "They volunteered love why not take them up on their offer? For them it's a matter of pride. You want to turn that down?"

"I swear I have to learn to say no to you!" Arthur hisses as he turns away; his eyes not seeing Eames satisfied grin. "They have guns."

"So do we," one of the other men pipes up as he pulls out a small handgun. "I don't have much but what I do I ain't parting with it that easy," he states firmly as Eames looks at him with an amused expression.

"Come on now, we'll give you both something to wear and you can emerge on the other side of the tunnel and get the upper hand on thems other fellas chasing you."

"Sadly it has merit," Arthur mutters in an undertone as he pulls away from Eames and heads for Fred, taking the musty smelling coat and easily sliding the large garment over his lithe frame. "Fancy a bit of role play Eames?"

"Thought you'd never ask darling," Eames retorts with a husky grin as they both follow after Fred, carefully entering the dimly lit tunnel; the rest of the men filing in around them until, they completely blended and almost invisible. "How's the arm?"

"Still attached," Arthur answers dryly as Eames lips twist into a soft smirk.

"My sides fine too, thank you for asking."

"Figured it was."

"You know one of these days those walls hafta crumble, even a little."

"Those walls have kept me alive until now," Arthur retorts with a whispered hiss of agitation.

"And alone."

"Damn it, Eames…"

"It's not a bad thing. Most of us are an open book you know."

"I don't like to read."

"You sure about that?"

"Maybe the comics," Arthur firmly retorts.

Eames can only offer a small snicker at Arthur's terse replies; knowing that the gruff tone he's using was mostly for the benefit of the strange men flanking them on all sides. But earlier, when they were in private, Arthur had allowed himself to, ever so briefly, bask in the attention from a friend, giving Eames hope that when this was all over, Arthur would fulfill his promise and tell him the whole sordid story of his past.

Their steps start to slow as they hear noise several meters ahead; both Arthur and Eames exchanging worried glances as neither wanted any of the men with them to be accidentally caught in the crossfire and needlessly harmed for a battle that wasn't theirs to begin with.

"Here take this," one of the older men shoves his small automatic handgun into Arthur's grasp; Arthur looking at the expectant expression with a heavy frown.

"If I take this you'll have nothing to defend yourself with," Arthur tries to argue back; Eames stepping out of the way to survey the area before proceeding.

"The fight of good versus bad never ends. You need this more than I do."

"How do you know we're on the good side?" Arthur challenges in a kind tone.

"Never known two hunters to stop and help fix the other one up. Only the hunted do that. Besides…you have a kind face," the older man warmly comments, Arthur's frown instantly easing. "Take this. End the fight."

"Thank you," Arthur answers as his hand reaches for the weapon and firmly grasps it, giving the older man's shoulder a firm squeeze. "But I want you all to get back to safety okay? I promise when this is over this will come back to you."

The old man gives Arthur a firm nod before slapping him on the back; Arthur heading for Eames who had pulled away and was looking around the corner into a defunct subway hangar, both looking back to see only shadows.

"This is their life now," Arthur comments almost wistfully.

"Let's get back to ours shall we?" Eames retorts firmly as Arthur gives him a tight lipped nod. "Take the right and I'll take the left. Use the bullets sparingly."

"No matter what happens you keep going," Arthur tells Eames sternly.

"Yes Sir," Eames lightly mocks before he adds in a serious tone, "just watch your back. They're not after me. If we get separated meet back at the bathroom via that secret passage they showed us." Eames pulls away first, heading for the left side of the empty subway hangar, his steely blue gaze darting at everything before and around him, knowing that Arthur would have his back but wanting to get to the entrance first to ensure any waiting surprises were taken care of.

Arthur watches Eames reach the half way point and stop to look around for anything that might have been lurking behind the two large pillars to his left. He feels his heart rate starting to elevate but not from fear; he had been in tougher spots before and harder fights in this world and others. But unlike the dream world there was no magic formula to end the chase and shooting your partner wasn't doing them a favor, in fact it meant putting them out of their misery for good.

Eames nears the entrance to the abandoned subway area, turning back to see Arthur a few meters back and giving him a nod before daring to proceed. But no sooner does he dare to take a step to go up the stairs; a distinct 'ping' is heard, the bullet missing his shoulder by only a few feet and sending them both scrambling for cover.

"Back to the tunn…" Eames starts only to hear Arthur angrily curse before telling him to get back as another shot rings out. Knowing that Arthur was at least armed and more than capable of taking care of himself in a fight, Eames concentrates on the two men coming down the stairs firing at him; keeping him pinned behind one of the large pillars.

"Every shot counts," he reminds himself as he waits for a brief break in the firing to pop his head out and fire at the man on the left closest to him. He can only growl angrily as the two men advance and his bullets only help decorate the rotting wood boards a few feet behind them; the area thankfully devoid of life.

He hears Arthur in the distance behind him but tells himself to concentrate on taking out the two before him and help even the odds.

"What happened to your wig Tim!" Cecil shouts at Eames in disdain.

"Step out where I can see you and I'll show you!" Eames shouts back as he fires off a shot that hits the other man with Cecil in the leg. But the shot only grazes him; fueling his vengeful anger to get Eames back. The two of the men duck behind the other pillars as Eames dares to look out once more – this time no shots fired. He hears shuffling to his right and turns just as Cecil's body slams into his, forcing his somewhat weary frame to falter backward, nearly losing his footing and tumbling backward onto the tracks and dealing him a real setback.

But just as he's about to raise his right hand and try to the second thug helping Cecil, Eames twists his head to see how Arthur's faring. But instead of seeing his friend engaged in another life or death battle all he sees is nothing.

"Arthur!"

"He's dead!" Cecil shouts back as he prepares to fire as Eames surprises him by leaving his hidden vantage point and charging.

*bang*

XXXXXXXX

As soon as the first shot rang out, Arthur's body instinctively ducked behind the first large pillar his gun ready to fire. But just as he was about to poke his head out and take out Cecil; his mind telling him the hidden man on the left was Bryan, he was forced back by a shot from behind.

He hears Eames being fired upon but doesn't have the leeway or freedom to aim his gun and take one of the two men attacking his friend. Both were on their own in this fight for the future.

"Damn you Bryan," Arthur hisses as he swings to his right and tries to head for the platform to hop off, wanting to draw the fire away from the tunnel and the older men inside who might get caught in the crossfire. But that's not to be for as soon as Arthur fires a shot and races toward the end of the platform to disappear into the tunnel, Bryan's body slams into his and both tumble in the opposite direction away from his would be escape route.

Knowing where he's already wounded Arthur, Bryan's hand clamps down on the freshly bandaged wound, forcing Arthur's lips to emit an angry gasp. Despite the freshly resounding pain, Arthur's brain forces his elbow to snap to the left, clipping Bryan under his chin and snapping his head backward. Bryan's grasp around Arthur's mid-section loosens allowing the angry point man's foot to stomp down on Bryan's and his head to sail backward.

Bryan's lips curse in Arthur's ear as he pitches himself forward and the two of them lurch toward the edge of the platform threatening to tumble off the edge. There was no subway cars that would come through as the train itself had been diverted to the new station on the other wise of the brick wall but the rust covered tracks could still do them both some damage.

"What the hell…do you want…" Arthur grunts as he tries to wrestle himself free of Bryan's grasp.

"I want you to bleed!" Bryan shouts as he tries to raise his gun and fire off another shot to wound Arthur and gain the upper hand. He finally manages to fire off a shot that barrels through the tattered coat Arthur's wearing; thankfully missing him but causing the point man to momentarily freeze as his brain races to take stock of any fresh injuries. Upon finding none, Arthur recovers a few seconds later.

His left hand twists around and grabs a handful of Bryan's dark hair, giving it a firm jerk downward; making Bryan's lips curse as his hold on Arthur finally loosens. Arthur pushes back seconds before he pivots on his heel, brings his balled fist up to meet Bryan's nose and sending him stumbling backward, allowing Arthur to turn and race toward the platform, hoping to disappear into the tunnels and lead the fighting away from Eames and the homeless veterans; telling himself this wasn't their fight and it would end on his terms.

"Bloody hell, just stay down!" Eames growls as his elbow smashes into the jaw of his attacker, forcing his head back just as his fist lands on Cecil's midsection. He finally manages to get his gun free and whirls around, firing off a shot and clipping the other man in the side just as Cecil pounces.

Just as Cecil had pounced, Eames twisted his frame, making Cecil slam into his back and send them forward into the pillar but his eyes to catch Arthur just in time as he slipped into the darkness.

"Damn it Arthur…" Eames gently curses as his wounded side sustains a blow from Cecil's balled up fist, forcing his lungs to gasp and small shooting pains to be felt down to his feet. Another stiff blow to his side, forces Eames frame to falter to the right; his mind yelling at him to fake a fall and take Cecil down with him.

The ploy works. Eames falls to his knees, his gun ready. Cecil grabs the back of Eames coat and jerks him backward but Eames surprises him by firing a shot into the air and catching Cecil in the right shoulder. Cecil screams out in pain but Eames takes advantage of his distracted state by quickly pushing himself up to his knees and turning to attack Cecil. His anger takes hold as he hears Arthur as a young teen, locked in the cellar calling out for help and getting only pain in return.

"This is for Arthur!" Eames shouts as he punches Cecil in the shoulder, forcing him to yell out in pain once more and pull back, his lips gasping for air as he tries to get Eames to stop the beating. But it's not until Eames ear's pick up another gunshot coming from the direction of the subway tunnel that he finally pulls back; Cecil's labored breathing, pain-wracked frame sagging in his grasp.

"Who set up Arthur!" Eames demands as he pulls his gun.

"Go…to hell," Cecil pants as he tries unsuccessfully to pull free.

"Wrong answer. I'll only ask once more. WHO?" Eames demands once more as he cocks the trigger and pushes the barrel of the gun into Cecil's sweaty cheek. "Who's the British sod that set up Arthur? WHO?"

XXXXXXXX

His feet had slightly faltered as soon as he hit the rails but his mind quickly forced his body to regroup sending Arthur racing toward the darkened mouth of the defunct tunnel and away from the fighting action. However, it was only mere seconds before he hears angry footsteps following behind, urging him to pick up the pace.

Arthur rounds a corner and then stops, swiftly turning and raising his leg for a high kick just as Bryan rounds the corner. Arthur's foot catches Bryan in the stomach sending him backward onto the defunct rails and allowing Arthur to turn and dash further into the darkness.

With his mind racing and heart pounding, his eyes quickly scan for something he can use to get the upper hand on his pursuer. But another shot forces him to momentarily duck to the right, his foot getting snagged on one of the pins and allowing Bryan to catch up.

"Drop the gun Arthur!" Bryan shouts as he fires off another shot that whizzes overhead. Despite his trapped foot, Arthur twists to the left and fires, sending Bryan fleeing for cover. Another shot keeps Bryan trapped behind the wall, allowing Arthur to unwedge his foot and keep going. But another shot whizzes past Arthur's leg, this time opening up a small slice of skin and forcing the point man to falter. Bryan takes advantage.

His larger frame slams into Arthur's just as they reach the opening to the defunct subway junction; both of them tumbling to the rusted rails and ending in a jumble of arms and legs. Arthur kicks up at Bryan's gun before Bryan can fire off a shot. Arthur manages to fire off a shot but misses Bryan, the bullet embedding itself into the dusty brickwork a storey overhead.

Bryan's fingers greedily claw at the edge of Arthur's coat pulling him back and impeding Arthur's escape. "Got you now!" Bryan hisses in anger as he kicks at Arthur's wounded leg, forcing the point man to growl in pain. But before he can do any further damage, Arthur's lithe frame easily pulls from the coat, leaving him in him wearing only his under shirt; kicking back at Bryan and sending him backward onto the rails clutching the coat in vain.

Arthur races for the platform just as Eames, now in careful pursuit, enters the start of the tunnel; now armed with new information about Arthur's real betrayer. Arthur hops up but is quickly pulled back by his foot, forcing him to slam down onto the dusty tiled floor as Bryan yanks his leg back.

Arthur's free foot flies backward, clipping Bryan in the jaw and snapping his head back once more, loosening his grasp and allowing Arthur to scramble away. But not very far. Bryan hops up onto the platform and despite breathing very hard pursues Arthur with vengeful anger.

Bryan fires off another shot, forcing Arthur to duck but still feel the heat of the bullet as it flies past, nearly missing his right cheek. He spies a small dark passageway to the right and makes a frantic dash for it; Bryan in hot pursuit. Another shot chips away at the rotting brickwork as it sails past Arthur's bare right shoulder, spraying the feeling point man's back with brick dust and bits of flying rock.

Despite the fact that his lungs were heaving he knows he has to get the upper hand on Bryan; get the gun away and get some answers. He spies what appears to be a doorway to the left and pushes himself harder, ordering his brain to ignore the pain in his leg from the gunshot graze.

Arthur presses himself into the shadows and waits; hearing Bryan's pounding footsteps as they round the same corner he just did and then near his hiding spot. Just as Bryan nears, Arthur's fist shoots out, clipping Bryan in the throat and forcing him to gasp and falter.

"This fight is pointless!" Arthur shouts as he tries to wrestle away the gun from his angry attacker. He finally manages to kick it into the shadows and fire off a warning shot to Bryan; making him cease in his movements. "Get up!"

"I want you to pay for what you did!" Bryan shouts back as the two of them slowly head onto a lighted platform; both battle weary from the fight and breathing heavily from the heated chase.

"I did! I had no life and sold my soul to the devil and have spent the rest of my life alone and untrusting!" Arthur shouts back as Eames continues to make careful but continued progress. "What more do you want? I don't have the kind of money you think I do and I'm not about to rob a damn bank for you!"

"I want your life!"

"You can't have it!" Arthur argues back as the two of them hold their ground. He feels a small warm trickle of blood starting to leave his nose, making its way to his lip but he holds his ground; Bryan in just as defeated shape as him. "This was never about Frank was it?"

"Frank could give a damn! In fact he applauded your ballsy courage that night and made us take the fall for him!" Bryan growls in response. "He's gone…in fact I don't even know where."

"Who set me up then?"

"A friend and I hope you go to your grave never knowing."

"WHO?"

"Choke on it," Bryan hisses in return as he spits in Arthur's direction; a small smattering of bloody saliva landing close to Arthur's black shoe. "You can't force me. You're not a killer!"

Arthur fires off a shot that forces Bryan to duck and then look at him with a narrowed gaze.

"I'm not the same scared kid you last saw either," Arthur retorts stonily. "Who set me up? Who did you make a deal with to betray me?"

"I only want you dead so if you let me live you know I'll come after you with everything I HAVE!" Bryan shouts as Eames nears the mouth of the defunct tunnel. He stops and watches Arthur with his gun raised and Bryan in a defensive position; his mind racing as to whether Arthur might actually be tempted to kill Bryan. But not knowing whether or not Bryan has a concealed weapon, Eames waits. Wondering if he'd have to take action and save his friend.

"Was it Garth?"

"Garth?" Bryan snickers. "He always pitied your sorry ass. Never knew why but he did but it wasn't him. I'll give you that much."

"Who?"

"You left us all to hang high and dry that night you think I give a damn about helping you now?" Bryan continues to argue. "I've hated you since the first day your worthless hide was left at Garth's and that hasn't changed!"

"Do you know how long ago that was?" Arthur shoots back in exasperation as his gun starts to falter. "I don't want to kill you Bryan, I just want some answers."

"You shouldn't have come back at all!"

"I said I made a mistake! WHO?"

The two of them stand in heated silence a few seconds longer before Bryan finally nods; giving off the guise that he's willing to surrender and accept defeat.

"I have no weapon. You lower yours and I'll tell you."

_Don't do it Arthur, _Eames mind growls as he watches Arthur's arm starting to lower. He raises his weapon and readies himself just in case.

Weary of the fight and just wanting some real answers, Arthur looks at Bryan's demeanour before he finally decides to lower his weapon; his finger however, still on the trigger just incase his life was on the line.

"Tell me Bryan. Who set me up?" Arthur asks in a weary tone; his mind just wanting him to end the fight, find someplace to curl up and sleep for as long as is afforded.

"I actually feel sorry for you Arthur," Bryan lightly sneers as he ever so slightly turns to the right, his hand getting ready to reach for the hidden weapon and take down his opponent for good.

"Yeah it shows," Arthur retorts icily. "Now tell me!"

"You'll always be alone."

"You're wasting time Bryan," Arthur growls in anger. "Who!"

"Who's ever going to come to your aid when you need it most?"

_Me, _Eames mind whispers as he prepares to fire.

Bryan's left hand tosses something into the air, Arthur's gaze momentarily diverted for a few seconds; but those few seconds affording Bryan to pull his gun and try to fire off a shot. Arthur's dark gaze drops back down to the gun seconds before his body jerks automatically at the sound of a gunshot echoing off the hollow walls surrounding them.

"No!" Arthur whispers as he instinctively clutches his mid-section. But destiny was to be kind to the beleaguered point man; his frantic eyes watching as Bryan's body falls to the ground – dead; Eames stepping from the shadows with his gun raised.

* * *

**A/N:** *phew* okay you can exhale now lol how was the fight scenes? Hopefully you all enjoyed it a bit. But with Eames taking Bryan down before Arthur could get his answers, think Arthur will be pleased with Eames? Might he jump to yet another conclusion before Eames has a chance to tell him what he knows? Please do review before you go (especially if you haven't done so) and thanks so much!


	10. Emotional Blackmail

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 10 – Emotional Blackmail**

* * *

"What the hell Eames!"

"Pardon?"

Arthur quickly recovers and looks at Eames in shock as the worried forger hurries toward him. "As always your timing is impeccable!" Arthur's angry voice bellows as Eames stops dead in his tracks and looks at Arthur with pursed lips and a small growl.

"Why thank you Eames for saving my sweet arse yet again…for the third time today I might add. Not that anyone's counting," Eames remarks dryly as Arthur offers Eames a weary glare. "Or something along those lines."

"I had this under control!" Arthur hisses as he steps to the right; Eames countering.

"He had a gun."

"He can't shoot very well…look that's not the point. This was my fight and…damn it Eames he was going to tell me who set me up! Is Cecil alive?"

"Define alive?" Eames retorts matter of factly as he once again blocks Arthur's path; Arthur pulling back in exasperation.

"Get out of my way Eames."

"We need to leave now."

"You're unbelievable. I need to talk to Cecil."

"Trust me it won't do any good," Eames replies as he looks at the wound on Arthur's arm and frowns at the fresh blood trails running down his taut forearm. "You're a bloody mess darling and I do mean that literally. Let's get you ou…"

"Are you even listening to me? I need to find…damn it," Arthur huffs as he hops over Bryan's silent corpse and tries to push past Eames; Eames, however, counters his movement's not letting Arthur pass. "You really don't want to push me right now Eames, trust me," he growls as he looks at Eames with a fierce gaze.

"You hear the sirens? By the time we get back down that tunnel the cops will be there and Cecil will be whisked off to some hospital where the doctors…will try to put him back together again. But trust me he won't be talking to anyone for a while."

"What did you do?" Arthur demands in exasperation.

"I evened the odds. It's time to go now."

"Eames…"

"Sadly I don't have that gag handy, but don't make me go all caveman on you and toss you over my shoulder love," he slightly smirks before his gaze turns serious. "Someone else would have heard the shooting and the called for help. The police will be here any moment now. I don't know about you but I make it a habit _not_ to get too friendly with local law enforcement."

"Eames…"

"Cecil doesn't have what you need, I do."

"What?" Arthur twists his head back and looks at Eames in utter shock. "He told you?"

"Gave him no option really. But we must leave now."

"I want the name Eames!" Arthur pulls back and raises his gun.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I want that name."

"Trust me love you'd miss me far too much if you pulled that," Eames winks before he turns on his heel and hurries toward the small door that would take them back into the tunnel and then back toward the hidden men who had helped them earlier.

"This is unbelievable," Arthur growls in an undertone as shouting at the end of the tunnel snaps him back to reality and as much as he doesn't want to be at Eames mercy, he knows he has no other choice. He turns back to Bryan once more; Eames turning back to see Arthur hovering over the body and hurrying back to collect the lingering point man.

"Come on now," Eames takes Arthur by his uninjured arm and pulling him back just as Arthur's hand snatch something from inside Bryan's pocket, Arthur jerking his arm free and holding up the bloody locket for Eames to see. "Anything else you need?"

"No," Arthur half whispers as he pushes past Eames and heads for the hidden door; Eames gently but firmly closing it just as the local police arrive to collect Bryan's corpse about five minutes later. The two of them remain in the dark in place a few moments before they finally pull away and very quietly make their way back toward the small group of men waiting for them.

"Eames!" Arthur stops them just before the reach the mouth of the last tunnel that would take them back to their original location. "I want to know what Cecil told you!"

Eames turns to Arthur with a soft expression but sighs heavily. "So you can go off with a full head of steam and do something rash?"

"That isn't your call. You're not my keeper Eames!" Arthur icily retorts as anger starts to flash in his warm chocolate orbs.

"Come darling let's get you tended to yes?" Eames simply turns. But already driven by frustrated anger, Arthur grabs Eames right forearm and yanks him back. Eames counters by using his left hand to push back on Arthur's right shoulder not wanting to damage his already wounded arm. Arthur tries to jerk himself free as Eames left fist grabs a handful of his undershirt and tries to pull him back.

Arthur counters by bringing both his arms up and breaking Eames hold, his body twisting to face Eames as they stand facing each other with heaving chests and flushed faces.

"I want that name! That information isn't yours to toy with!"

"I never said I wasn't going to give it to you but since we aren't exactly out of the woods yet I…"

Arthur shakes his head as he turns and heads out of the tunnel not waiting for Eames to finish; walking a few paces before he feels a set of eyes watching him and turns to see Fred and Barney emerge from the shadows.

"Thank you," Arthur tells them in a kind tone as he hands Fred his gun back.

"The good guys won then I take it?"

"We won," Arthur stonily retorts as he looks at Eames who merely purses his lips and utters a light growl as he nears. "Wish I had some way to repay you."

"Helping you win was reward enough. Take care of yourself young man."

"I will."

"Thanks for the help," Eames gives each of them a firm handshake; following Arthur's lead before he too takes his leave and hurries after Arthur back toward the car. But instead of getting into the car, Arthur makes a move to bypass.

"I'm walking."

"With that bloody arm exposed like that darling how far do you think you'll get before you attract the wrong kind of attention?" Eames calls out; his words forcing Arthur to halt in his tracks, his back still to Eames. "The fight is over. Let's get back to the house, get cleaned up and then make a new plan for getting the rest of our answers yes?"

"One condition," Arthur lightly groans as he shakes his head and turns back with a small frown. "Don't you dare be tempted by the cuffs in there," he concludes with a lighter tone.

"Oh you wound me love," Eames offers a mock pout. But he can only offer an amused smirk as he watches Arthur head back to the car, pull open the door and climb into the back; literally collapsing onto the seat as the door closes, sealing him inside.

"So I'm to be chauffeur again hmmm," Eames muses as he gets into the front and then turns around to see Arthur look up with a strained frown. "Bryan never would have given you the name and you know it. He wanted either you or him or both to die not knowing."

"But…"

"Hush now," Eames interjects, earning himself a small tight lipped grumble from Arthur. Eames starts up the engine, wipes the bloody residue from his face before he slowly directs the car into traffic heading back to the orphanage; Arthur content for the meantime to remain on the backseat – resting. His fingers pull the locket and stare at it in wonder. His token…and other personal effects he could replace but this he couldn't. it was the last thing his mother had given him before she left and the only thing that reminded him they were real, years after they were never seen again.

They reach the orphanage, Eames slowly pulling the car into the small garage; his eyes looking around to see who was waiting for them. The open house was underway and he knows they would draw at least some attention to themselves in their current condition.

"Seriously?" Arthur huffs in wonder as Eames hands him his jacket but not before he pulls out the Tim wig and mustache.

"Cover your arm."

"Eames…"

"Hold on," Eames gently whispers as he reaches into the pocket of the jacket Arthur was now wearing and pulls out a small cloth, gently wiping away the blood from Arthur's smooth skin. "There you go darling. The rest you'll have to wash off yourself."

"Eames!" Arthur tries once more as Eames affixes the black wig.

"It's Ti…its Tim," Eames rebuts in his fake American tone. "Let's go."

Knowing it was literally pointless to argue, Arthur can only shake his head and follow after Eames as the two of them emerge from the garage to a few wondering glances from some visitors in the backyard. Both merely offer curt nods as Eames directs them to the fire escape stairwell on the side of the house; giving them a bit more privacy from having to walk through the front door in their rather disheveled appearance.

As they reach the top of the stairs, Arthur pulls away and heads for the room he had been held captive in earlier, once again grumbling to himself as he tears off Eames jacket and sets about gathering his possessions; the ones Bryan and Cecil had pilfered through a few hours earlier.

"You actually saw him touch it?" Arthur holds up his weighted die.

"Fondled it like he was in love," Eames answers with a small huff as he watches Arthur in concern.

"I'll be fine. Where are you staying anyways?"

"Cross the street. Come now and let's look at that arm shall we."

"Eames I got this."

"I really wasn't asking," Eames retorts lightly.

But despite his wanting to protest, Arthur doesn't put up much of a fuss when Eames leads him to the bathroom to get his arm tended to and re-bandaged. After a few minutes of silent cleaning of his wound, Eames looks up to see Arthur's absent gaze fixed on the wall behind him.

"Does it hurt?" Eames asks when Arthur's face lightly winces at the effects of the disinfectant.

"What?...uh no sorry…maybe a little…it's okay," Arthur lightly stammers he turns back to see what Eames had done. "Just lost in thought."

"Care to share?"

"You know my terms. I want that name," Arthur states firmly as his arm tightens in Eames gentle grip. "Why aren't you telling me anyways?" Arthur huffs as he jerks his arm free in angry defiance.

"I will," Eames retorts as he grabs Arthur's arm and places it back where it was; both of them firmly holding the gaze of the other before Arthur mutters and looks away; Eames looking back down at Arthur's wound to finish tending to it.

"How's your side?" Arthur finally asks in a softer tone.

"It's fine," Eames replies in truth as he reaches for the soft bandage wrapping. "Before or after you shower?"

"Now is fine. I'll shower tomorrow," Arthur answers somewhat absently; Eames taking his cue and completing his task. After he's done, Arthur gets up off the edge of the counter and faces Eames with his trademark anxious expression. "Let's see that side. Now."

"Love when you're demanding darling; didn't know you liked a bit of role reversal," Eames lightly quips, always taking satisfaction in coaxing a somewhat shy smile from Arthur's lips.

"You've made a mess Eames."

"Semantics," he casually retorts as they both listen to the commotion outside. "Think Garth might be busy for the rest of the day."

"Bryan said Garth was clean and I'm leaning toward believing him. Hold still a sec," Arthur muses in an undertone as he reaches for a large bandage. "But I do think he knows more about the death of my parents than he's letting on."

"You sure you really want to dig up the past? Maybe there's a reason he didn't tell you," Eames gently suggests as Arthur pulls back from cleaning Eames side. "I don't want to provoke a fight but sometimes the truth really does hurt."

"I can take it now. At least I have to try right?"

"Your last memory of them was a good one?"

"I need to know. I just do."

"Okay so we'll…"

"Eames."

"Well I've survived this adventure so far, you can't just shoo me away this close to the end can you?"

"Would you actually stay shooed away?" Arthur arches his brows in wonder.

"What do you think?"

"I think that's a no."

"Very good. Now can I trust you to behave while I go and get my things and come back? Or maybe I do have to bring out the cuffs so you'll be here when I get back?" Eames playfully suggests.

"I have nowhere to go thanks to you, remember?" Arthur growls sourly as he heads out of the bathroom. "When you get back here I better get that name. When will that be?"

"I'll be back soon."

Without really knowing he was doing it; Arthur's face lightly cringes at the words spoken, his mind flashing back to when he was a small boy and being told the same thing by his mother.

_'How long do I have to stay here mom?'_

_'Until I get back.'_

_'And when will that be?'_

_'I'll be back soon.'_

"Arthur?"

"I'm fine," Arthur replies somewhat mechanically as he gathers up his somewhat busted suitcase, pushes past Eames and heads for the room he had been staying in the night before. Eames turns to follow but Arthur quickly locks the door and he he's left outside.

"Whatever I said…I'm sorry if it struck a nerve," Eames apologizes through the wooden door. He hears a small shuffle and turns to see Miles watching him silently. "I think I upset my friend."

"Wanna offer him a cookie?" Miles holds up one of the treats for the open house, Eames face breaking into a natural smile. "Cookie's always make my friends feel better."

"I think he'd like that, thank you Miles," Eames gives him a playful hair ruffle, taking the sweet treat and watching the boy head for his room with another one in tow, disappearing inside and locking the door. But just before he can knock on Arthur's door to offer the cookie bribe, Eames hears male voices and footsteps starting to ascend and knows it's time to take his leave.

"Why hello Tim," Garth greets with a firm nod; two strange men, that Eames would corrected deduce are creditors stand behind in the stairwell. "Tim is one of our success stories."

"Pleasure to meet you both. Only good things to report," Eames replies in earnest as he turns back to Arthur's closed door.

"Was that Arthur's voice I heard?"

"I think he's getting changed," Eames answers before he pushes past and heads for the front door; leaving Garth in the hallway heading for Arthur's room. As he heads across the street, his mind races as to what Arthur would do with the information he possessed._ It's not yours to keep, _his mind correctly reminds him. But would Arthur's betrayer actually give him the truth or just make up some lame excuse to save his own hide and escape before the truth could be forced from him.

_'Tell me who set up Arthur!' _Eames mind thinks back to the defunct subway tunnel; flashing images of him standing over Cecil with his gun raised. _'WHO?'_

_'Choke on it'!_

_*bang*_

_'Ahhhhhhhh. Oh damn….you shot my…knee…ahhhhhhhhh…'_

_'Next one will be higher. I want a name!'_

_'Okay okay…but he'll never give…Arthur what…he wants…oh damn…'_

_'Arthur can be the judge of that. WHO?'_

Eames darts into the back door of the hostel and hurries up to his room to pack up; thankful to be rid of the musty smelling dwelling, telling himself he'd either be staying in the orphanage tonight or back on a plane to Mombasa – the ball was literally in Arthur's court. But as he gets dressed into something more – Eames, his mind can't help but mull over the name he was given. And it's only a matter of minutes before he dashes over to his laptop, types in the name and starts to search.

He finally finds what he's looking for and then goes back to dressing, telling himself that he'd spare Arthur the trouble of…_it's not your call, _his brain begs him to remember. _This is only part of your fight! You can't deny Arthur the truth of who tried to betray him. He deserves to know and face them in person!_

Eames finds himself on the front street in an emotional conundrum. Part of him wanted to track down the traitorous sod and deal him some two fisted justice and spare Arthur the grief; reasoning that this person wouldn't give Arthur the whole truth no matter what. The other part tells him that he should honor his word, tell Arthur who it is and then go and face said traitor together.

"Bloody hell," Eames huffs in an undertone as a cab pulls up a few meters away. His conflicted blue orbs look at the cab and then back at the orphanage; his mind racing for the right answers.

But before he can take another step in either direction, suddenly a small face appears, intent on swaying his decision.

* * *

**A/N:** So who did Eames see? How will it affect his decision? And ultimately his relationship with Arthur? Please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	11. The Whole Truth?

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 11 – The Whole Truth?**

* * *

For a few moments, Eames remains frozen in place, giving his head a shake in an effort to remove the image before him. It remains and he can only curse himself as he starts to feel something he hasn't since he was a young child.

Guilt.

It wasn't exactly a word someone in his line of work prided himself on knowing the definition of and certainly a feeling he never usually let sway his actions, much less a life or death decision. But as soon as he had turned and saw a young face – one he's seen before, he was done; guilt starting to creep into his soul and set a new course.

_'You promised.'_

"Damn you Arthur," Eames whispers as he stares at the image of a young Arthur racing into out of the orphanage and staring longingly into the streets, his large dark eyes welling with angry tears as he calls out to the parents he'll never see again. A promise broken. Hope never fulfilled. Then he looks at Eames.

_'You promised.'_

This time Eames pictures a full grown Arthur standing before him; the same warm brown eyes piercing him. Only this time the gaze isn't filled with remorse or misery – they're filled with hurt and wonder. And his once grandiose plan to track down the traitorous sod all on his own and deliver him some fist to mouth justice is rendered moot.

"Bloody hell," Eames curses under his breath as he waves the taxi cab away and slowly heads back toward the door of the orphanage. He quietly slips inside, entering the main area and pausing as he watches Arthur enter Garth's private office and closes the door – but not all the way.

XXXXXXXX

"Thank you for the kind words to Senator Wilson. Most appreciated."

"It was the truth," Arthur answers honestly as he stands before Garth's desk; his hands in his pockets, one of them fondling the used locket; his token that he'd have to replace as soon as this was all over.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around much today. We got funding for…" Garth stops as he turns around to see Arthur watching him with a tense expression. "I know that look. Means you're about to deliver bad news or seeking some. You secretly bought this place and are going to turn it into a baby Gap?" He queries lightly.

"Not exactly. That night my parents left me here…well up there in my room, I waited until they had left and then followed them downstairs. I know they stopped in here and I saw them give you a box. That box…"

"Arthur it was destroyed with…"

"Bryan said you kept it. And don't bother trying to call him and ask. Bryan's dead," Arthur informs the older man with a serious tone.

"Dead? What? How?"

"He messed with the wrong people, but he said someone set me up and knew things about me…"

"Arthur…"

"Personal things!" Arthur hisses in anger. "He knew things about me and what I do for work and…he knew Garth. How'd he know?"

"You think…"

"HOW?" Arthur mildly shouts before he quickly lowers his voice; his mind reminding him of where he is. Eames, however, hears Arthur's voice raise for the second time in less than a minutes and decides it's time to run some interference.

"I don't know. Bryan showed up a day before you, he asked for some spare cash but that's about it; that's the only time he ever came around. I haven't seen him for a few months and this is the first time since you left that I'm seeing you before me. I have no idea even where you ended up until you told me a few nights back, so I couldn't have given out personal information as I don't know. I give you my word."

Arthur looks at the sincere, pleading expression on Garth's face and feels himself wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"How'd he die?" Garth inquires gently.

"There was an accident. Bryan had the locket my mother gave me. What else did you give him Garth? And why did he try to kill me?"

"Okay I don't kn…Tim, sorry this is a private conversation," Garth insists as Arthur turns to see Eames standing in the doorway.

For a fleeting second, Eames notes the utter relief in Arthur's eyes, confirming in his mind that he made the right decision by coming back.

"Actually…I'm part of this private conversation."

"He stays," Arthur states with a curt nod of confirmation before he turns back to Garth with a determined gaze.

"Very well," Garth abides by Arthur's wishes and gestures for them both to sit. "I don't know about Bryan's plans although I'd be lying if I didn't say that jealousy wasn't the main factor."

"Jealous of what? I have nothing," Arthur admits weakly, qualifying his rather dismal answer a few seconds later, "nothing that he'd value. I never did."

"Whatever happened in the past between you two after you left here I wasn't privy to and I'd prefer to keep it that way. I'm sorry he's dead but not really surprised. And you never gave in to him; that made him jealous."

"How'd he get the locket?" Arthur presses for the truth.

"He broke…or someone, you just confirmed it was him, broke into my office about a year after you arrived…"

"Left."

"What?"

"I was left here," Arthur corrects sourly, Eames offering the back of his head a small wince.

"Your parents did what they thought was best for you."

"Where is the box?"

"Bryan and Cecil, I'm also assuming it was his partner in crime that aided him, pried open the safe and took everything inside. Anything of value they kept and the rest…they threw away."

"I don't believe it!"

"I'm sorry. I wish I had better truth for you but I don't. If he kept the locket then he must have found some value in the gold or else he kept it out of spite, which wouldn't surprise me either. Bryan's always hated the world and everything in it. He picked on you a bit more because of your stubborn defiance but he picked on everyone," Garth pauses as he looks at Arthur's firm expression. "Ask."

"What happened to my parents? All you ever told me is they died in a car accident, but I never got any real details. I looked but the papers didn't say much. You said at the time you wanted to spare me and I had to live with that then and I didn't press. But I want to know now and you owe me what you know. Were they murdered?"

"I don't know if you remember what your father did for a living but he was an investment banker for Marty Cochini."

"Cochini?" Arthur repeats more than asks as his whole body tenses, Eames noticing the change but remaining fixed in a standing position in front of the door; keeping all unwanted guests outside until Arthur had gotten what he came for – the truth. "The mob boss?"

"Even in death he was a powerful enemy and leaves a lasting impression. Your father overheard his brother mention something about killing Marty and before he knew it, your father's whole life was turned upside down. House was instantly foreclosed; bank accounts frozen, assets seized an…"

"We never had much."

"Your father was a simple man who never put much trust in material possessions, so instead of spending money on things people could see; he put it all in the bank. And there it sat waiting until his son grew up and would become the heir to whatever he had accumulated when he passed. Now just before the last account, his trust fund for you was seized, he managed to transfer it to a bank in Switzerland where it couldn't be touched. His will along with the account information was in the box in my safe," Garth offers with a heavy sigh, as he leans forward and rubs his face. "The only reason I know is because this…" he pauses as he pulls his drawer open, extracts a small slip of paper and hands it to Arthur. "Fell out when the safe was damaged. I'm guessing the contents spilled out, they just shoved everything in to a bag to evaluate later and didn't care about an inventory slip.

"So when I say that I don't think the accident was a legitimate accident is because I don't. I know who was after them and who had the means to make it look like more than an accident. They bought off the right people and details were never made public. They brought the one thing they valued most to a place a mob boss wouldn't bother to look. And you remained safe until you decided to leave on your own."

"Do you think Bryan had knowledge of Cochini?"

"He was a kid also and I limited the bad news coming into the home and by the time you were both ready to make your own adult decisions, his path had already been carved for him. Arthur, I'm sorry. I wish I could say that…"

"Do you know if my father ever did…sorry that's not fair to ask."

"I wish I could tell you either way, but I'm afraid I don't know. I only know a few bits of what your father told me when he dropped you off here and said there was a good chance they'd never be coming back. They wanted me to know they were good people and loved you very much," Garth adds as Arthur's jaw instantly tightens; his brain begging his eyes to hold back any kind of fluid emotion until he was in private. "The rest you know because you were here and whatever I could share with you I did. It wasn't much because after that night, I was afraid to dig deep. I had promised your father, that no matter what I read or learned I wouldn't expose you as his son. He knew it would mean your death. And, sometimes despite my own inner urgings I upheld that promise, until now. I made a call in what I thought was best for you back then and it kept you alive. I'm sorry for the rest."

"Thank you for telling me all this," Arthur manages weakly, his brain, however, expertly relaying the message to his lips to offer a tight lipped smile. "Bryan he…he told me things about you…how you'd look away when they picked fights and I didn't know what to believe."

"Sometimes I intervened and the other times I let you fight your own battles to help you develop character and strength. But I give you my word that I never would have let him or any of them cross the line. Maybe if you had come to me earlier we could have called the police and had this dealt with."

"Bryan never would have allowed that to happen and at least this way no innocents were hurt," Arthur answers in a somewhat shaky tone, as he leans back in his chair; his brain trying to process all that he just learned.

"I wish I had the box for you Arthur but I don't. But maybe…" Garth pauses to write down something on a piece of paper and once again hands a small slip across the wooden surface to Arthur's open palm, "you can find something here. It's Bryan's address. I would love to talk more but I have to get back to the creditors."

"Of course…thank you," Arthur stands up at the same time as Garth.

"We can talk later if you want," Garth heads toward him, his hand resting on Arthur's left shoulder and giving it a squeeze before he heads toward the door, nodding to Tim/Eames before he disappears into the hallway; leaving Arthur in his office for as long as he wanted.

Eames eyes rest on Arthur's tense frame as he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to turn the silent point man back to him but then quickly retreating back to his side.

"I was…"

"Thought you'd run," Arthur interjects curtly as he turns around with a clenched jaw.

"Don't know me too well then," Eames answers with a somewhat uneasy tone as Arthur's head slightly cocks to the side in disbelief. "You sure you don't need a moment? After all that…."

"I want that name," Arthur demands with an insistent huff. "Look I just need that name and…"

"You can take your minute," Eames suggests as he moves in a bit closer, Arthur pulling away and turning around as he quickly swallows. "What he told you couldn't have been easy to hear."

"What, that my father laundered money for the mob and was killed for it? Right, because that only happens in the movies!" Arthur turns back with an angry hiss, pushing past Eames and darting into the hallway, charging for the stairs and not giving a damn about a few curious onlookers. Muttering under his breath, Eames hurries after Arthur; somewhat surprised when the angry point man by passes the stairs and heads for the front door.

"Eames, I just need that minute!" Arthur calls back with a small snap in his tone as he rounds the corner to the house and makes a determined charge for the garage, entering the dimly lit building and slamming the door behind him. Eames offers a somewhat sheepish expression to a few of the surprised children before he gingerly pushes the door open and glances at Arthur pacing at the end of the small space; his mind holding back a scolding to Arthur for him calling him by his real name in public despite being in full Tim disguise.

"Go ahead and say it!"

"Say what?"

"I told you so!" Arthur growls as he turns to Eames with hatred and anger flashing in his dark chocolate orbs. "You told me the truth would hurt and now you can say I told you so. So say it!"

"Since I know you are speaking out of heated emotion, I'm going to say I can't blame you for being pissed and if you want to hit something, let's go find a gym."

"I…" Arthur starts and then stops and glares at Eames. "At least take off the mustache. I can't be mad at Tim. Tim…damn it Eames," Arthur groans as he turns around once more and heads for the end of the garage, once again pausing by the last table as his mind recalls another painful memory.

_'Garth, what did my father tell you?'_

_'Arthur what does your dad do for work?'_

_'He's a teller for a bank why? What's going on?'_

_'He just needs to help a special client.'_

_'What about mom?'_

_'The two of them are going to meet with this client. Trust me it'll be okay. Want to come in and see where you'll be spending the night?'_

_'I'll wait on the front steps. They won't be long.'_

"They never came back."

"What's that?" Eames inquires as he nears Arthur.

"I sat outside on those front steps until it was dark and Garth literally had to come and carry me inside because I was half asleep. He told me about the accident the following morning. I went back to the steps and sat there all day, waiting. As I grew older I made up stories to myself that they had to join the witness protection program and were watching from afar. Inside I knew they weren't coming back but I didn't want to believe it. After sometime I gave up believing in anything," Arthur concludes in a quiet tone before he clears his throat and turns to Eames with a semi-narrowed gaze. "I want that name."

"Bad timing to ask but did you ever see their bodies?"

"Garth said it would be important for closure but at the time I still thought they were asleep and begged them to wake up. They never did and that was it. Garth made something small for them in the Hill Street cemetery and no I am not going to be distracted by…Eames I need to finish this no matter how painful. Someone gave Bryan personal information about me and I want to know who and stop this before I am forced to go back into hiding – from everyone for good."

"Ian White."

"What?"

"That's the name Cecil gave me. Ian white. Although it doesn't sound…"

"Ean (eeen)."

"What?"

"He spells it with an E and that's how he pronounces it, "eeen". He said that, you sure?"

"Unless he's very adept at lying after being shot twice; which I'd have to admire him for that but which I doubt, then I'd say yes I'm sure."

"You shot him twice?" Arthur asks in shock.

"I needed the first _and_ last name," Eames retorts with a grin, earning a small head shake for his confession. "So you know him then?"

"Frank introduced us for a job. Only one. After the job he asked me if wanted to work with him and I said no I was staying with Frank. Don't say it, good move right?" Arthur tosses at Eames who merely shrugs in return. "But that was it. I never gave him reason to keep tabs on me or…are you sure he said Ean White?"

"Quite certain. Now where can we find _Ean_?"

"Eames…"

"You want answers right? And at this point I want them also."

"I'd say I'm going alone but knowing you, you'd jump onto the moving car on the roof and mock me the whole way there."

"When have I ever mocked you?" Eames asks in amusement as he turns and heads toward the front of the car to get in. "I'm sure I could find a few other creative means to force myself to tag along."

"I don't even wanna know," Arthur mutters under his breath. But just before Arthur can get into the car Eames quickly turns and steps in front to block his path; Arthur pulling back in surprise. "I said you could come."

"I see daggers flashing in those warm brown eyes. However, if you go in there with guns blazing and head full of steam he's already won. What's your plan?"

Arthur looks at the expression on Eames face and pulls back with a small sigh; nodding in agreement. "I know right now I just want to put my hands around his neck and force the truth out of him."

"Not a good look for you darling, that's my role," Eames smirks as Arthur purses his lips.

"You found an address I take it? That's why you're pushing for this so you can come up with a plan? Maybe you've been there already," Arthur inquires.

"Thought had crossed my mind and for a brief moment I was tempted to leave you here and seek out the sod on my own and deal him some old fashioned street justice. But denying you the privilege of the truth would be wrong so here we are. Let me drive and you formulate that plan along the way."

Arthur pulls out his gun and checks it before quickly stowing it away back into his holster; Eames face displaying a proud grin. "I'm asking the questions."

"You know this take charge attitude is very becoming. Just don't lose that vulnerable bit you know I fancy."

"I don't even want to know what that means," Arthur grumbles as he heads for the front passenger seat, Eames chuckling to himself as he gets into the driver's side and the car slowly pulls out from the garage. "I wonder what arrangement Bryan and Ean had? Bryan said Ean came forth willingly with personal information about me and that Ean took some small payment to help Bryan kill me. I just hope that Bryan didn't have time to call Ean or have a prearranged time and Ean's waiting."

"Either way, we'll confront him and get those answers."

"I just don't understand why…" Arthur's voice dies out as Eames glances over at Arthur in concern. "I came here to get some downtime and just rest," Arthur grumbles in frustration as he casts a stony gaze out the window.

"Promise we won't stay too long," Eames quips in return as Arthur's face finally softens. "But I do promise we won't leave until you have exactly what you need to hear."

The home itself is situated on a street with larger properties; less prying eyes to watch the goings on of their neighbors. The large black gate at the front of the driveway is open with no visible security around. Eames slows the car as they near the gate.

"Thought it would be more heavily guarded," Arthur notes in an all too familiar tone; one Eames draws his own nervous agitation from.

"Worries me also," Eames agrees with a small frown as both sets of eyes fix on the _seemingly _unprotected house in the distance. "But we came here so let's go knock on the door and have a chat."

"That's your plan?"

"You want to fly in through the window?" Eames retorts as both exchange wry glances. "I don't see cameras or a security shack. But we can't turn back now."

Eames carefully meanders the car past the gate and up the driveway; both sets of eyes nervously darting around the property as the car nears a large decorative fountain and finally stops.

"Let's go."

As they near the front door, Arthur's inner anxiety starts to gain momentum and he wonders if he shouldn't have let Eames deal out his own brand of justice. He had gotten the name from Cecil and proven his loyalty by coming but…_no…you've come this far, you have to know the truth, _his brain correctly reminds him, instantly pushing back all inner doubt. _I need to know, _Arthur keeps telling himself as he watches Eames heading around to the right in search of an opening other than the front door.

Eames pulls back at the last minute, ducking out of sight just as a lone male figure appears in the kitchen. "I only see one," Eames whispers back to Arthur before he crouches low and heads for the back door; Arthur right behind him. The two of them carefully make their way up the back stairs toward the open back door, Eames rushing in first and offering the first unsuspecting bodyguard a sleeper hold.

Arthur gives Eames a nod as the he gently lowers the man's body to the floor; pulling his gun and heading to the right, Eames on the left. "Too quiet," Arthur whispers as they enter the main living area; once again greeted by silence. But a soft shuffling atop the stairs, forces both to pivot and instantly raise their guns over their heads. Eames gestures for the staircase and both hurry toward it and start to ascend as quietly as possible.

They hear a man's voice talking a room where the door is slightly ajar and head toward it, guns still drawn and ready for action. Arthur pushes the door open and both gaze at the back of a man.

"Duncan did you…" Ean White turns around and instantly arches his brows. "Remember to lock the door to keep out unwanted intruders?"

"You're not British," Eames offers in disdain.

"Very observant. But then I'm not really Aussie either," Ean changes his voice to speak with an American accent, drawing inquiring glances from both Arthur and Eames. "I won't play ignorant and ask what the two of you are doing here, armed no less. But I will say…excuse us Mr. Eames I want a word with Arthur," Ean states firmly.

"That's not your call _mate_," Eames retorts in sarcasm as he aims his gun at Ean. Ean offers them an unfazed glare before his face softens and a slow cryptic smile spreads across his lips.

"Actually Mr. Eames it is and this is a private conversation," Ean states as two armed men enter and flank Eames on either side; a third man taking his place behind Arthur with his gun pressed into his back. Neither of them has to exchange an angry glance with the other to know that they had to turn the tide and regain the upper hand. But just before Eames can make his move to attack the man on his right, Ean hits them with a verbal bomb.

"A conversation for family only."

"What?"

* * *

**A/N:** uh…what? Family? Yup that curveball was intentional muwhahha so is Ean telling the truth? Is he really related to Arthur? And how? Any guesses? Hope you liked the banter that preceded this and Eames honoring his word to Arthur in not leaving. Course that might be moot now that they are both caught. So I hope you all liked this little surprise and please do review with your thoughts before you go and thanks so much!


	12. The Family Ties that Bind

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 12 – The Family Ties that Bind**

* * *

FIGHT! DO SOMETHING! His brain shouts as he keeps his stupefied dark gaze on the man before him. His brain somewhat registers Eames insisting that's a lie but he's remiss to fully acknowledge it either in word or deed; two invisible hands keeping him captive in place. He's had a gun in his back before and faced more than three armed men; the situation wasn't physically daunting. It was only one word that was keeping him from taking action. One. Damn. Word.

_Family?_

For the next sixty seconds nobody moved…blinked…even dared to breathe until Arthur's eyes finally blink and his lips slightly purse. But as quick and sharp with his wit as he prides himself most of the time, in this instant – he was rendered speechless by something that couldn't possibly be true.

"It's not um…not possible," Arthur finally manages as Ean looks at him with a Cheshire-cat like grin; a wily gambler that had just laid down his jackpot winning hand, forcing all others to bow to defeat.

"Oh come now, can't you see the family resemblance?"

"Coincidence," Arthur manages in a tormented whisper.

"You're in denial."

Eames glowers at Ean's smug expression but does the one thing he does best – react well under pressure. His left elbow comes up, catching his left flank by surprise but forcing his right to act. The sudden movements force Arthur to follow suit, swiveling on his right leg to attack the man behind him, wanting to keep his injured arm out of harms way as much as possible.

Ean watches the futile attempts with an amused expression before he casually leaves the space behind his desk, ducking once at the shot from Eames misguided aim but heading right for the target of his vengeance. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur watches Ean approaching and tries to wrestle the man he's tangling with around to face Ean. However, having already gotten the Intel from Bryan, Ean knows exactly where on Arthur's weary frame to strike and he doesn't hesitate to use that knowledge to his advantage; his hand picking up a piece of heavy pipe from off his desk as he walks by.

The only time Eames finds himself momentarily seizing mid-action, is when he hears Arthur utter a painful gasp and turns to see his body falter; looking up at Ean who now stands over Arthur with a heavy pipe in his grasp, Arthur on the floor clutching his arm. But the few seconds' distraction is enough time for his two attacker's to regain composure and each pull an arm behind his back.

"Bloody hell you're not family!" Eames hisses as he tries to kick out at Ean as Ean bends down and forces his gun under Arthur's chin forcing it up a few inches; Arthur's attacker standing watch with his gun pointed down.

"Not all families are smiles and hugs Mr. Eames," Ean chirps; keeping his gaze, however, fixed on Arthur's wondering expression. "Now shall we have our discussion in private?"

"Eames stays!" Arthur growls as he jerks his head away in defiance.

"That was rhetorical," Ean mutters dryly as he gestures with his head to the two men holding Eames firmly in their grasp. "Don't worry Mr. Eames," Ean starts in a firm tone. "I'm going to take very good care of our dear boy here."

Just as Eames is dragged from the room, the man standing over Arthur bends down and gives him a firm knock on the head with the butt end of his gun, forcing Arthur's head to snap back and his body to slightly slump back down.

"Let's get him up shall we," Ean directs as he and the other attacker bodily drag Arthur over to a wooden chair; Arthur's brain urging him to push past the throbbing in his brain and fight back.

"Damn your light hand! Hold him!" Ean hisses at the other man who had somewhat laxed in his grasp on Arthur who was now regaining full consciousness and not wanting to stay.

"Let…me…go!" Arthur tries to pull himself free, desperately wanting to get the gun lying so casually on the top of the desk a few feet away. But his efforts are short lived as each wrist is finally wrestled down to one of the arms of the wooden chair and then tightly fasted with a black zip tie.

"What the hell…is going on?" Arthur growls in anger as he tries to yank himself free. "Where have you taken Eames? Who are you really?"

"I'd be a bit more worried about myself and your rather tight predicament if I were you," Ean snickers as Arthur tries once again in vain to pull himself free of his bonds. But the plastic edging instantly starts to bite into his tender skin, forcing him to slump back against the chair in defeat and look up with a narrowed gaze.

"Where!" Arthur demands in anger.

"Still the sharp dresser I see," Ean tosses back, ignoring Arthur's verbal demands. "But then good taste in clothing seems to run in the family."

"We're not related!" Arthur fires back in contempt. "No matter what lies you tell me I know you're not my family! My father was an only child!"

"Hmm and here I thought you only _looked _naïve," Ean smirks as he eases himself down onto the edge of his desk, facing Arthur and looking down with an amused expression as Arthur continues to lightly struggle against his tight bonds. "Do I seem familiar now?" Ean leans in close and allows Arthur a chance to really study his face.

"No."

"Do you have any idea who your father really was?"

"You're nothing but a filthy lair who…"

*slap*

Arthur's head snaps to the right with the harsh slap; his brain quickly getting him back in the game and forcing him to glare back in contempt. "Truth hurts?" Arthur goads.

"I'm not filthy and I'm not a liar!" Ean retorts firmly as he leans in closer, his fingers firmly grasping Arthur's chin and pulling his head forward. "The truth is going to hurt you a lot more than it will me. Now I will gladly wear the title evil but not liar. That's something your father taught you by his own example," he concludes in a harsh whisper as he holds Arthur's chin in his grasp a few moments longer before finally letting go; allowing Arthur to ease back in the chair as much as he could while still tightly restrained.

"What do you have to gain by lying? I met you once and it wasn't enough for you to start looking for family albums! Where the hell is your proof?"

"No one ever takes anything at face value these days," Ean mutters to himself as he pulls away from Arthur, gets off the desk and heads to the corner where an ornate safe is waiting. Arthur's sharp gaze watches Ean's movements, telling himself that no matter what Ean tries to produce, it was all a fabricated lie. But when Ean pulls out a very familiar looking box, Arthur's agitation starts to increase.

"I believe this treasure trove belongs to you."

"Where…did you get that?"

"Well I did pay Bryan to help lead me to you right? Figured I needed something for my investment and this was it. While he wasted his time chasing you through the sewers I helped myself to whatever he had left. Oh trust me you were never in any real danger; Bryan was merely a pawn. The perfect one at that with his past grudge against you. Convincing him to help me wasn't that hard but I wasn't about to let him have the immense pleasure of killing you for good."

"What do you want?" Arthur asks firmly.

"I want…you."

"Fine. Why am I here?"

"How does Eames tolerate this impatient side to you?" Ean looks over with a grin as Arthur grits his teeth. "Course he is the master forger so that means he can always fabricate false patience and sympathy when he wants something right? What did you offer him for the extra security?"

"If you're trying to divide and conquer forget it; we're not that close and you're wasting your time. And mine for that matter. Why am I really here? I have nothing you could possibly want!"

"Ah see now that's where you're wrong dear boy. I want…or rather should I say…I _need_ your life and now I have it."

Arthur feels himself inadvertently swallow as Ean nears with something in his grasp, his fists tightening and straining against the strong black webbing keeping him prisoner.

"Don't worry I'm not going to kill you just yet. Let's take a walk down memory lane together," Ean plunks himself back down onto the edge of the desk and holds up the photo for Arthur to see. "On the end here…this is mommy dearest. You know they had the money, why did she always dress so plain?"

"It's a family picture so what!"

"And here is your father. Awww there's you in the middle," Ean continues with a mocking tone as Arthur narrows his dark gaze at the smug expression; his brain frantically trying to find a way to get free so he could pummel Ean White for all his misguided lies. "Amazing. I can still see the mischievous boy in the man before me. Maybe it's the dimples. I know you still have them."

"You…"

"Correct. This person…on the end…is me."

"That doesn…"

"Your…Uncle."

Silence.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe…"

"LOOK AT THE PICTURE!" Ean shouts as he leans in and with his right hand seizes Arthur by the throat; his left forcing him to look at the family picture. "Who the hell did you think was the man at the end?"

"I…don't…"

"You'd have to be utterly blind to not see the family resemblance. Look at your father…look at you…now LOOK AT ME!" Ean shouts once more before as he holds the picture a few inches closer.

"Anyone can…have a picture…doctored…" Arthur manages with a slight wheeze as Ean pulls back and looks at him with arched brows.

"I know you are not that daft. You see the original date watermarked on the side just as well as I can."

_Uncle…this…this can't be…my father never mentioned a brother…_

"My father was a good man. He was a bank teller who…"

*slap*

"I'm not a man to suffer lightly. I know that fool Garth told you the truth so don't play innocent with me; it'll win you no favors. It might have worked on your brute friend in the past but it won't on me so at least show me that respect," Ean demands as Arthur's lip finally breaks and a small trickle of crimson is produced.

"What do you want with me?" Arthur asks firmly, his teeth gritting at Ean's use of the past tense when referring to Eames.

"I want to review our family history so you get a clear understanding before I walk back over to that safe, retrieve a needle that I will administer into your system that will introduce a toxin into your blood and kill you. Sadly for you it won't be a quick and painless death but thankfully for me, if they do run an autopsy it'll show you died of natural causes. It's amazing what money can buy these days."

"I have nothing!" Arthur argues back as his wrists one more try to pull themselves free of their tight restraints.

"Getting back to the family picture and the reason behind your current captivity," Ean utters sharply. "I'm sure you remember this occasion don't you?"

"I was three. I don't remember much! But I would have remembered you!"

"You sure about that?" Ean counters. "Your father and I never saw eye to eye on….well anything and this event, let's just say I crashed it. But your father, being the stuffed shirt that he was, refused to make a scene and have me tossed out and even posed for a picture with the whole family."

"He would ha…"

"Really? How does Eames tolerate your constant need to interrupt?"

"He's resourceful."

"Yes well you'd be well advised to let me finish or I'll silence you right now FOR GOOD!" Ean's voice raises to a loud pitch once more, forcing Arthur, against his own impulses, to bite his tongue. "Better. Since we never talked as brothers, I had to keep an eye on dear old dad from a discreet distance. Something I was paid very well to do I might add. So you are correct in the fact that he did _start_ out as a lowly teller at a bank. But did he ever tell you that the bank belonged to another nice _family _man? Mario Cochini; Marty as we used to call him. One day your father was invited to a father's day luncheon the bank was holding and they got to talking. Marty offered your father a way to help with his, well at the time they were mild financial woes, in return for a few favors."

"My father was an honest man!"

"I'll let that one slide. He laundered money for the mob and kept some for himself! The only one that lied to you was him! You want to blame someone for your rather unfortunate upbringing, blame him! See money is an amazing thing. It has so much power. And this power laid hold of your father and lured him into its greedy little trap so that he decided to start taking some of that money for himself to…"

"SHUT UP!" Arthur yells as Ean looks at him with a slow smile. "All of this is lies!"

"Ah so the truth does hurt," Ean folds his arms over his chest in triumph.

"He was blackmailed!"

"He was corrupt! Oh I'm sure Garth made it seem like he was all innocent and earned his money the old fashioned way, with hard work and dedication. He was greedy and he paid the price for it! With his life!" Ean pauses as he looks at the almost stunned look on Arthur's surprised expression. "Just before he died, he oversaw a memo…an internal notice from Marty to someone he trusted, someone who was charged with the task of plugging the greedy leak for good."

"You?" Arthur manages weakly as his throat seizes.

"Me," Ean grins as Arthur's fists once again tighten in anger.

"You killed…my father…your brother?"

"Oh people die all the time. It was business," Ean states pointedly. "Your father caught sight of the memo before I did, did some fast banking transactions, raced home, gathered up mom and son and tried to skip town. Marty's one mistake was sending someone else and that spooked your father. Since you were lying down in the back they never saw you. Your father managed to lose his, rather inept tail, and landed on Garth's door. He very wisely changed your last name and then drove off. However, they didn't get very far as I finally caught up with them and…"

"You murdered your own brother over a few lousy bucks?"

"Quite a few lousy bucks actually. However, this is where you come into the picture my dear nephew," Ean grins as Arthur looks up in contempt. "When your father transferred the money, he put in his will that only his son with the proper ID, I might add, would be able to claim the small fortune that he tucked away in a private, untouchable account in a land far away. Had he stuck with a local bank this issue would have been moot and our paths never crossed. But, he decided to be clever and it's required a bit of extra work to get to this point where I can finally claim those few lousy bucks. But now I have you and…"

"If I die then you get nothing!"

"Ah but I have a copy of the will and access to a master forger…"

"Eames will never help you!"

"He's not the only one around capable of copying things," Ean argues back. "All I need to do is add on that piece of paper that should anything happen to their only son, the money comes to me; his last legal living relative. I present your death certificate, along with the will, my own ID and retire somewhere a bit warmer than this."

"When I met you wh…." Arthur starts and then stops in realization.

"Ah I see the wheels inside that polished head are finally starting to turn. Yes that's correct. I didn't know where your father dropped you, not for lack of trying I might add. But Garth was a very careful guardian and the few pictures that started to float about on the orphanage's website were moot by the time we met as you had already left the country, name change and all. When Frank introduced us I wasn't sure, as you see your father had always told me your name was Oliver."

"What?"

"You know the poor little orphan boy – Oliver Twist. Hmm was rather telling. I'll blame your mother for that. Frank merely said Bryan, Cecil and Arthur would be joining us. I could care less and wasn't much interested until we met face to face. It might have been a few years but I knew you were the lost son I had been seeking all those years. I didn't want to spook you so I thought I could lure you with a bit of money, since you had nothing. At the time, Frank had bigger pockets and you said no. I begged Frank to let me help with the last job and he said yes but you skipped down before we could reconnect and I've been seeking you ever since."

"That long?"

"Well good help is hard to find," Ean sighs as he looks at the armed man behind Arthur's captive frame in disdain. "Plus when you left this god forsaken country you changed your name again and I lost your trail. That is until you decided take a job with Cobol Engineering. Take a guess as to who one of their board of directors is?" Ean asks with glee as Arthur narrows his eyes once more in anger. "Then I called Garth and told him I was an old friend wanting to connect and heard you might be in town and told him to call me."

"He asked no questions?" Arthur manages weakly.

"His orphanage is in danger of being foreclosed and those poor little boys becoming homeless. I promised a sizeable donation and followed that up with a cheque. As I said…greed is a very powerful motivator. He sold you out unwittingly."

Arthur watches Ean get up from off the edge of the desk and slowly head back to the safe, his mind trying to process all the information about his family, his past and fateful future. _My Uncle? My father willingly stole money? And now…_

"Oh don't look so glum dear boy," Ean pipes up from the corner, forcing Arthur's head to lift and an absent gaze to cross his features. "Need a moment to process all that before I end your life and continue on with mine?"

"Look, you want the money take it. I've lived with nothing this long, I won't miss it," Arthur tries to stall. During his short captivity, his brain had correctly deduced that the stem of the right arm on the chair was loose and if he pulled as hard as he could it might just shift, allowing him to at least pull his right arm free. With the gun still within reaching distance the plan wasn't that ill-conceived. Plus…where's Eames?

"I get rid of you and I rid myself of having to look over my back for the rest of my life or waste money employing inept helpers."

"I want to see the will!" Arthur suddenly demands as he continues to pull at his bonds, giving his right arm a bit more force than the left, and not caring about the shooting pains coming from his current wound.

"Times up, dear nephew," Ean states meanly as he pulls the needle from the safe and holds it up; a piece of rubber tubing being taken out next. "Liquid death. Kinda has a nice ring to it."

Arthur's right wrist starts to tug on the arm of the wooden chair, his body buckling as Ean nears with the needle raised and an eerily placid expression on his face. Not caring about the skin starting to break until the cruel plastic ties, Arthur continues to pull as he tries to kick out at Ean as he nears.

"Not going to try to bargain for your miserable life?"

"Would it work?" Arthur retorts in sarcasm.

"No. Now I want to s…" Ean starts only to be suddenly stopped by the last noise he expected to hear.

*ring*

"Who the hell is at the front door?" Ean hisses as he looks at the man a few feet away in anger. "Get rid of them!" Ean orders as he pulls back and carefully places the needle and tubing on his desk and reaches for something else.

"Take the mo….mmmph!" Is all Arthur manages before he's silenced with a heavy piece of tape pushed firmly over his mouth.

"The time to bargain for your life ended the day your father died!" Ean leans in closely and hisses, the two of them trading dark gazes for a few seconds before Ean pulls back and gives Arthur a mocking pat on his cheek. "You've always been alone and now you'll die alone little nephew!"

Arthur's frame continues to pull in vain against his tight bonds as Ean picks up the tubing and turns to face him with a small sneer.

"To the future..."

* * *

**A/N:** uh oh…well the truth comes out but…is it really the truth? Or is it just another well fabricated lie told by a very skilled con man? What do you all think? What does Arthur think? Who's at the door? And where's Eames? Sorry for the lack of Arthur/Eames interaction in this but I promise lots up next. Would love your thoughts as always b/c they keep this story going and us inspired to keep writing for you all and thanks so much!


	13. Trust is a Valuable Commodity

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 13 – Trust is a Valuable Commodity**

* * *

_Family? Arthur's family? His own blood betrayed him? Is he telling the truth? _Eames mind ponders for a few seconds as he tries to yank himself free from the iron-like grasp of the two men holding him firmly between them. As much as he wanted to cause a commotion inside the room Arthur was being held, he knows that Ean had the upper hand with Arthur as his prisoner so evening the odds and offering Ean a surprise attack was the more desirable option.

Knowing it was pointless to try to reason with paid muscle, Eames eyes dart around in the hopes of finding something he can use to his advantage and take out the two men on either side of him. Just as they reach the main floor, Eames spies a large decorative scepter on the wall and takes swift action. He fakes a fall, forcing the man on the right to stumble with him and the man on his left to slightly falter. A swift kick to of his right leg, takes the man on his right down to his knees. Eames pulls with his left arm and the left fist of the man on his left ends up hitting the man on his right.

Eames jerks his left arm free and punches the man on his right once more; a swift kick from his leg to the groin of the man on the right takes him out of the game for a few minutes. In a matter of seconds, Eames is on his feet, tangling with the man on his left, the two of them trading a few punches before Eames manages to get him backed against the wall; knocking the back of his head against one of the lampposts and dazing him. He feels a small breeze from behind before he's slammed into the wall by the man who had previously been on his right but, Eames kicks back with both legs, sending the two bodies slamming into the opposite wall a few feet away. The other man's lips emit an angry gasp as his body stumbles to the side. A firm blow to the temple sends him to floor; Eames the last man standing.

Eames hears shouting from the stop of the stairwell and knows he has to get Arthur away from Ean's clutches. He quickly retrieves the handguns from both limp bodies at his feet, shoving one into his shoulder holster and the other fixed firmly in his grasp. He hears Arthur shouting back and can only imagine what kind of heated discussion the two of them were having and if Arthur would even want to admit what he had learned. But as long as Arthur was able to shout back, he knows his stubborn friend will do anything he can to stall until help arrives.

Eames looks around for something else he can use as a defensive weapon, hearing what sounds like a slap and cringing at the thought that his tardiness was forcing Arthur to endure even a mild beating. But just as his hands rest on the heavy decorative scepter, he hears Ean tell Arthur its time to die and knows he's out of time – no more seconds to formulate a plan, he just has to act.

However, just before he can fully pull the would-be battering ram from the wall and charge up the stairs, the doorbell rings and silence reins supreme for a few seconds before Ean orders his man Hank, to check the front door and Eames is forced to duck under the stairwell.

_Who the hell is at the door?_

XXXXXXXX

_Think about all this later…he's lying…maybe he's not…think about it later…find a way to escape…get the gun…ACT NOW!_

"Time to get the party started," Ean tells Arthur as he dangles the tubing before him.

Arthur's mind races with panicked thoughts as he tries to drown out Ean's sickening hum, his eyes darting between Ean tying the tubing tightly around his taut forearm and the gun on the desk. Not caring about Ean's reaction, his arms try to jerk themselves free of the tight ties keeping him captive to the chair. Arthur's lips can only emit an angry growl as Ean cinches off the tubing and pulls back to wait a few seconds.

"HANK!" Ean calls out to the man he had sent to the front door moments earlier. "Damn that moron," Ean huffs as he pulls away from Arthur and heads for the door to his office. He listens to the silence coming from one level below and narrows his eyes before he ducks back inside and locks the door. "If it is your friend playing games, he'll arrive a little too late!"

"Mmmmm," Arthur groans as Ean grabs a handful of slick hair and jerks his head painfully back, Arthur looking up with narrowed eyes.

"Part of me has to wonder why you've sat on all that money all these years," Ean mentions in a low down as he looks down in disdain. "And the other part of me wonders if you even knew about the money in the first place."

Ean finally lets go of Arthur's head; Arthur jerking away in an act of visible defiance but merely earning himself a small chuckle from his captor. He watches Ean pick up the needle and then turn to face him with an evil grin.

"By the time your would-be savior comes through that door, I'll be long gone and you'll be well on your way to the afterlife. And this time, there won't be a kick hard enough in the world to wake you from your nightmare!"

Arthur's entire frame seizes as Ean nears, the chair slightly jumping as his body starts to buckle; his arms trying to pull up but being held fast to the chair and taking it long for the ride with him. Ean looks down with a mocking expression before his hand clamps onto the wound on Arthur's un-tubed arm and squeezes.

"MMMMPH!" Arthur's lips offer a painful gasp under the tape gag, as pain grips his body and forcing him to quickly subside and cease his futile attempts at escape.

"Really now," Ean huffs. "You're just delaying the inevitable. The antidote, which is being held by a trusted apothecary, would never be administered in time to save your life so accept your fate already."

Arthur's attention instantly is renewed upon hearing the news about an actual antidote and his races back in time to find a name that he might need just in case. But before he can get a solid lock onto the mental gem, Ean's mocking voice breaks his thoughts and his plan is once again put on hold.

"Right," Ean lightly chuckles as he looks at Arthur and leans in closer. "He'd never give it to you even if you were to get there in time. You only heard me mention him once and trust me his loyalties do not lend themselves to poor little orphan boys. However, your captivity here will afford you one luxury – you'll have time to sit there and ponder all that I just told you about your sordid family tree before you finally join your parents."

Arthur's chest heaves under another painful squeeze to his wounded arm before Ean pulls back and prepares to administer the drug.

_Eames! Help me…anytime now….just bust through the damn door already! _

Ean moves around to the back of the chair; seconds later his left hand gripping Arthur's bare arm and the right aiming the needle at the ready vein. Arthur's eyes widen and his breathing start to shallow in fearful anticipation, but as soon as the tip of the needle pierces his skin his panic explodes.

"MMMMMMPH!" Arthur instinctively yells as his body tries to buckle and get the needle out. But to no avail. Ean's finger swiftly pushes the end of the needle all the way in, taking the drugs with it. Arthur can only watch in captive misery as the clear blue liquid leaves the needle's body and starts to flood his system. Arthur's body jerks as the needle is mercilessly ripped out and Ean walks around to the front with a triumphant smile on his face.

"I think I'll leave you just as you are dear nephew," he taps Arthur on his gagged mouth as he pulls the tubing free and tosses it away; pulling the sleeve to his dark dress shirt back down. Arthur looks up in anger as his body temperature suddenly starts to rise and panic seizes hold of him. "Right about now you should start to feel very very warm. That's normal and i…" is all Ean manages before a gunshot is heard just outside the door and he's swift to take action.

"Time to leave! See you in hell _Oliver!"_

Arthur watches Ean race toward the safe, pulling a black duffle bag into his hands before a small door is opened and Ean disappears from view. _Oh god…I'm getting…warmer…_Arthur's mind starts to feel the ill effects of the drugs starting to work away from the core of his body, spreading out o each limb and then up to his brain.

The room starts to slightly spin but as he squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them, the spinning stops. However, mere seconds later, small black circles form and he feels is heart literally skip a beat and then offer a thud in his chest. _The poison…help me…oh this can't…be….ahhhhh_

Arthur's fists ball up tightly as his chest heaves, his nostrils flaring and small beads of sweat starting to form and slowly slide down his pale flushed cheeks. He tries to order his brain to get his arm to pull on the loose arm of the wooden chair he's tied down to but as he feels another painful gasp surging through his entire frame, he abandons that course of action in favor of trying to get his heart rate back down to an acceptable level so he'd stay awake.

_EAMES! _Arthur's mind shouts as he tries to struggle against his tight bonds. But not being able to call out and then having to worry about his core temperature sky-rocketing his mind starts to ponder the fact that this could be his untimely end. _EAMES!_

XXXXXXXX

Eames can only stifle a small snicker at the innocent girl at the door offering cookies for a good bargain.

"Beat it!" Hank growls as he slams the door shut and then turns to head back upstairs. But while his back was turned when talking to the girl guide cookie seller, Eames was able to sneak up behind Hank and wait behind a large pillar until the gruff conversation was over. As soon as the door was closed, Eames pounces, wrapping his arm around Hank's neck and instantly putting him into a sleeper hold.

"Stay down," Eames growls as he hurries as he picks up the weapon and hurries up the stairs.

But just before he's about to charge through the door to help remove Arthur from Ean's evil clutches, Eames is tackled from behind by of the his attackers from earlier, forcing his body to slam into the nearest wall and his gun to clatter to the floor just out of reach. With an angry growl, Eames arms grab the forearms of the man still on his back, his body pitching forward and taking his attacker with it. The attacker slams to the floor, his gun also springing free. Eames dives for his fallen weapon just as his attacker recovers and aims his weapon. Eames fires and his attacker is taken out of the game for good.

"Damn," Eames curses under his breath as he hears another door slamming in the room to the right; the room Arthur's still prisoner in.

But he wastes no time in charging for the locked door, readying his shoulder and busting through. He spies Arthur's frame bound to the chair but quickly surmises that Ean has escaped. He hurries past Arthur's anxious frame, reaching for the small open door just behind the still open safe. He hears footsteps two levels down; his mind telling himself that Arthur was alive and would wait until he had dragged Ean back to face Arthur's personal wrath. But hearing a strained growl from Arthur, Eames halts his actions and turns back with a heavy frown.

"Really darling, I'm getting used to finding you waiting for me like this," Eames grins as he hovers over Arthur's captive frame for a few seconds. "Whatever will I do when this adventure is over hmmm? Do this to you myself?" He snickers as he gently peels the tape away from Arthur's lips.

"Eames…hurry...Ean..." Arthur manages in a small voice.

"I thought you wanted me to come back for you. Want me to get him instead?"

"No! Just…hurry…he...gave...me..."

"Okay, hold on I'll have you free in a second," Eames talks in a mild tone, telling himself that Ean had administered a beating and Arthur was just feeling the ill effects from that.

"No Eames…" Arthur starts but then sucks in his breath and utters a painful gasp, making Eames stop and look at him in concern.

"What did Ean do t…"

"Needle," Arthur manages weakly as Eames looks up in surprise.

"What's that?" Eames asks in haste as he cuts Arthur's left wrist free. "He gave you a needle?"

"Poison. Hurry," Arthur whispers as Eames finally cuts his right wrist free of the zip tie.

"Oh bloody hell what? Where's the antidote?" Eames asks somewhat rhetorically as he races back to the safe and starts to rummage through the remaining contents. "Damn it, WHERE!" Eames demands of himself as he pulls everything out, allowing a few items to clatter to the floor.

Arthur's mind races back to that night in a desperate attempt to remember someone…anyone…he had met or Ean had mentioned that dabbled in the underground medical arts. _Ping…Ping lai…_

_'If you boys are ever in a spot of trouble write down this name. Ping Lai. He's a very trusted friend who lives in a small side house in chinatown, Cherry Blossom Lane, number 13 to be exact,' Ean had paused to chuckle, 'and for the right price, he'll fix you up no questions asked. Just mention my name and you'll be given the royal treatment.'_

"Ping…" Arthur gasps as Eames halts his actions and looks up in haste.

"What's that?" Eames rushes back to Arthur's side, checking his forehead and cheek.

"Ping."

"Ping what? Damn it love, you're burning up."

"Ping…Lai…china…town," Arthur manages as his face offers a painful wince. "Hurry."

"Up you come," Eames tells Arthur as he gently hoists him into the air, wrapping his right arm around Arthur's trim waist and slowly heading for the door. His mind tries to drown out Arthur's small gasps and painful wheezes as they slowly start to descend down the stairs; their next stop the front door and then outside into the car.

"How long did he say you have?" Eames asks desperately.

"Not...long…hurry…Eames…please hurry…" Arthur begs weakly. But just before they reach the bottom, Arthur's eyes water and his steps outwardly show his inner disorientation as he stumbles and takes Eames with him, both of them tumbling down the last few stairs and landing on the bottom in a jumble of arms and legs.

Eames hears a high powered engine rev outside; seconds later peeling away and forcing him to curse before he springs into action. "Arthur…" he huffs as he gently helps Arthur get back on his feet, supporting him with his arm and hip. They reach the outside and Arthur's lungs hungrily take in as much fresh air as possible; his watery eyes trying to blink away anguished tears in an effort to focus.

"Arthur!"

"Stop…shouting…poisoned…not deaf…" he utters with a small sarcastic tone.

"That's my Arthur," Eames retorts as they head for the car, Eames mostly dragging Arthur instead of Arthur walking on his own.

As much as he'd love to hunt around for another high powered machine, Eames knows time's of the essence and so pushes them toward their own waiting car. However, as soon as they near the front, the plan is rendered moot.

"YOU BLOODY BASTARD!" Eames shouts in heated anger as they reach the front of the car only to see a large knife sticking out of the side of the rapidly sagging front tire. "Damn it!" He curses as he knows he has no choice but to put into action his other plan.

"Arthur. Arthur!" Eames snaps as he Arthur's eyes struggle to open and look at him. "Look at me. Right here. That's it."

"Hurry…"

"Just stay awake. I'm going to find another car," Eames lightly begs as he helps Arthur ease down by the side of the car and then races in the direction of the large multi-car garage. "Naturally," Eames groans as he looks at the only car without its tires all blown to hell. He rushes toward the rather rundown looking sedan, smashes the window to get inside and then pulls down the dash wires in a frantic attempt to get it started.

"COME ON!" Eames shouts as he tries once more and the engine finally sputters to life. Eames presses down on the gas, filling the chamber around him with putrid fumes but causing him to move a bit faster. He directs the car toward Arthur's waiting frame, cursing when he sees Arthur completely slumped over – unmoving.

"Come on darling stay with me," Eames gently growls as he picks up Arthur's rather limp frame and hurries back to the car, placing him on the small back seats, closing the back door and the his own and pulling away from the mansion in haste. "Where to?"

Silence.

"ARTHUR!"

"Wha…Eames…what…Chinatown."

"I got that bit, but where in Chinatown? It's not that small a place."

"cherry…blo…"

"Stay with me!" Eames snaps as Arthur's eyes slowly open once more, his body on fire and his heart beating painfully in his chest. His arms wrap around his stomach as he rolls onto his side and painfully gasps. "You better not die on me now! Not after all we've just come through. ARTHUR!"

"Cherry…Blossom…Lane," Arthur sputters as his face crunches with pain. "Hurts…oh damn it hurts."

"I know and that bastard will pay but we need…Arthur!"

"Here…I'm...still here..."

"Cherry…blossom…" Eames mutters to himself as he runs the red, ignoring the barrage of horn blares his rash actions earn him in the process. "MOVE!" Eames shouts at the tardy vehicle before him.

"Hurry…Eames…oh god it…just….hurry…." Arthur begs in misery as Eames glances back into the rear view mirror as Arthur gently writhes on the backseat.

"Just stay with me. Think about the revenge you'll extract on…on whoever the hell Ean White really is. Just think on that."

"Ok…ay…" Arthur tries as his fists ball once more and his lungs utter a small gasp.

"Chinatown. Do you have an address?"

"Number…13."

"13…bad luck," Eames grumbles. "Figures."

His eyes frantically scan the street signs as they pass in a somewhat vain attempt to find the street that housed the only person that could save his friends life. "Where the bloody hell…." Eames curse dies out as he slams on the breaks a few seconds after he passes their intended destination. "Finally!"

He swings the car to the right and then carefully makes his way down the narrow alleyway, looking for a place to stop that wouldn't block others and draw to them more unwanted attention. He finally spies a small vacancy in front of number 10 and comes to a sudden halt.

"Okay we're here," Eames mutters as he goes around to the back and tries to get Arthur to get out on his own. "Come on Arthur, work with me love," Eames states in a panic as he feels Arthur's clammy neck for a pulse. "Damn," he curses as he leans in closer.

"Right, we'll do it the old fashioned way," he tells Arthur as he gathers his unmoving frame up into his arms and pulls away from the car, kicking the door closed before turning and heading toward number 13.

Once again he kicks at the door and then prays there's someone inside the darkened dwelling. "OPEN UP!" Eames demands; his mind earning a silent scolding from the precious cargo in his arms. "Come on Arthur time to wake up and scold me for my bad manners," Eames looks down at Arthur's rather placid expression.

"OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR!" Eames growls as he finally is rewarded with footsteps and then fingers fumbling with a few locks.

The door opens and the small face of a young Asian boy is seen looking up at them with wide eyes.

"Is Ping Lai in? This is a matter of life and death!" Eames exclaims seconds before the boy turns and darts back into the darkness as the door nearly closes. "Nothing is ever easy. Hello!" Eames shouts as he pushes his way into the unfamiliar dwelling and then tries to look around for the light switch.

But he doesn't have to wait long as within moments a small light is flipped on and an old Asian man appears in front of the small boy, looking at Eames in wonder; Eames freezing in place.

"We need your help," he mentions as he hastily recovers.

"I don't do marriages," the old man mutters as Eames looks at him with pursed lips but holds back a sarcastic reply.

"Ean White sent us and said you could help. My friend has been poisoned and…" Eames starts as the old man gestures to the little boy who rushes behind Eames and closes the door; the old man heading for Eames. "He said you're the only one with the antidote. Please you must help him. Please," Eames begs.

The old man looks at Arthur and then up at Eames with a heavy frown.

"No sorry."

"I'm not…bloody hell hold on…" Eames huffs as he heads for a nearby cot and reluctantly lays Arthur's limp frame down on top and then turns back to the old man. "Please…I'm begging you here. You must help him. I have money."

"No sorry."

He then pulls his gun and aims it at the old man, the little boy uttering a gasp as he ducks for cover; the old man looking at the desperate expression on Eames face with a rather placid one.

"Please…I'll give you whatever you ask. I just need that antidote."

The old man glances over at Arthur, before he finally moves from place and heads over to the small cot. Without actually examining Arthur, the old man looks down and then up at Eames with the same placid expression.

"Sorry…friend is already dead. Nothing more I can do."

* * *

**A/N:** Oh dear! What? Alice get back here! Lol is that really the fate Arthur's going to suffer? Or will Eames demand the antidote and Arthur come back to us all and avenge his family with one final showdown with his betrayer? Hope you are still liking this story and please do review before you go with your thoughts and thanks so much!


	14. The Price of Freedom

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 14 – The Price of Freedom**

* * *

Dead. Dead? Dead! Arthur's dead…Arthur. Is. Dead. Arthur's dead. Arthur's…NO HE'S NOT! Eames mind starts to race as he feels his world linger in its limbo-like state a bit longer. The little boy makes a shuffle and his transfixed stupor is broken, forcing him to finally realize just what the old man told him; his brain still refusing to believe it.

"No!" Eames snaps as he cocks the trigger and shoves his gun back into the face of the old man. "Where…is the…antidote. I will not ask again," Eames demands in controlled anger.

"Your friend…"

"He's not dead. I'll give you…anything…just whatever you want, name your price. Ean White poisoned him…he's his nephew and he betrayed my friend by murdering his parents and then wanting to kill him for his inheritance. We need to make this…"

"Your friend…" the old man tries again.

"HE'S NOT DEAD!" Eames shouts as he hurries back to Arthur. "He's…not…dead! Arthur you bloody stubborn sod wake up!" Eames growls as he rushes back to Arthur, slams the gun down on the desk and starts to pump on Arthur's chest. "Wake up damn it!" He huffs as he lowers his mouth to Arthur's and blows in two angry breaths before he returns to a few chest pumps. "WAKE UP!"

But a few moments later a calm hand is felt on his arm, forcing Eames frantic blue eyes to look to the left but deftly step aside as the old man very methodically pushes up the dark fabric of Arthur's dress shirt, searching for the same vein that Ean had used earlier. Eames watches the tip of the needle pierce the skin and the bright red slowly liquid enter the waiting bloodstream; his breath holding and mind racing as the old man pulls out the empty needle and turns and looks at Eames.

"One thousand dollars."

"When he wakes, it'll be yours," Eames replies with a soft whisper as he reaches for his gun; the small boy's wide eyes watching in fear a few seconds longer until the gun is shoved back into his shoulder holster and Eames turns back to the old man with a tight lipped smile. All he could do now was pray it worked.

"Thank you for trying."

"Friend will be okay. Come and drink tea."

"Tea…could use a spot of tea actually," Eames sighs before he turns back to Arthur and then leans down, his hand resting on his forehead. "How long will it take?"

"Few minutes."

"It's been a few bloody minutes," Eames mutters under his breath as he takes off his jacket and lightly drapes it over Arthur's unmoving frame. "You better not leave me to clean up your mess on my own," Eames tells Arthur as he looks at Arthur's placid expression with a heavy frame; giving his shoulder a firm squeeze before he stands back up.

"My grampa wants to know if you'd like your tea now."

"Sure," Eames turns and offers a weary nod to the little boy, who turns and hurries back to his grandfather in the other room. But Eames doesn't go too far as he takes the small mug of tea and settles into a chair a few feet away from the small cot Arthur was still resting on.

"Don't leave me now," Eames utters in an undertone as he takes a sip and then offers the old man and small boy a tense nod. "Or else."

XXXXXXXX

_'Where are we going mom?'_

_'We are all going on a holiday Arthur. Here's your bag. I've packed a few things now don't ask any more questions, we have to go.'_

_The small scared boy sat in the backseat, his wide eyes peering out the window as he watched the traffic zoom past, looking at the front and seeing his parents talking in hushed tones as the speed increased._

_'Where are we going daddy?'_

_'We're going to visit a friend Arthur.'_

_'And then on a holiday?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'Where.'_

_'A tropical island far away. Would you like that?'_

_'Sure.'_

_But that holiday never came. A few minutes later, the car veered sharply to the left and then to the right…down a lonely unfamiliar street and finally coming to stop in a less than reputable part of town._

_'Where are we mommy?'_

_'Arthur, daddy and I have to take care of a few things and you are going to stay with Garth, a friend of your father's. Everything is going to be okay.'_

_'I'm scared mommy.'_

_'I know sweetie but it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay. Just remember no matter what happens we'll always love you.'_

_Always love you….always…love…you…always…_

Arthur's mind spirals round and round in the darkness as the lifesaving liquid in his veins continue to combat the death dealing components still attached to his cells and swimming in his bloodstream.

"If I say you're hot, don't let it go to your head darling," Eames smirks as his hand gently rests against Arthur's now warming cheek and then his forehead. He takes another sip of his tea and then leans back in his chair and studies Arthur's face and frowns. "If I pinch you will you at least give me a grimace?" Eames lightly huffs before he looks over at the old Chinese man watching him intently.

"Not long now."

"You said that five minutes ago," Eames retorts lightly as the old man holds his gaze.

"Friend has pulse now."

He couldn't argue with that so Eames leans back in his chair, raises his glass in a half toast and takes another sip before he turns back to watching Arthur.

_'I don't want to stay here mommy. Please take me with you.'_

_'I can't sweetheart, you'll be safe here. Just always remember we love you and you'll be safe here. We'll come back as soon as we can.'_

_'Promise you'll come back.'_

_'I promise.'_

_'How soon?'_

_'As soon as we can.'_

_The little boy watched his parents hurry back outside; his father just having finished talking in private to the man named Garth. They got into the car and then pulled away – the small boy never seeing them alive again. He offered the strange man a tense smile before he rushed back outside and sat down on the steps to wait. He waited….and waited…and…waited…_

"I hate waiting," Eames groans as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking over at Arthur's still expression and frowning. "Now would be a good time to wake up and tell me to stop complaining."

_'Arthur, are you coming down for breakfast?'_

_'I'm going to wait on the steps for my parents Garth. Do you think they'll be back today?'_

_'Arthur, there's something I need to tell you about your parents.'_

_'I know we're going on a holiday.'_

_'Do you have any other family that you know of?'_

_'No. I'm an only child.'_

_'How about an uncle or an aunt? Or a cousin perhaps?'_

_'No. It's just me and my parents. Why Garth what's going on? Do you know when they'll be back for me? My mom promised. She always keeps her promises.'_

_'Come with me Arthur, I need to tell you something about your parents.'_

_'Okay. Maybe when they come here we can all have breakfast together?'_

_But that never happened, instead the small boy was taken down to the unfamiliar office and shown a newspaper clipping about a couple that was killed in a car accident the night before – his parents. The child stared in disbelief at the words and then looked up at his would be guardian for an explanation. Garth explained as best he could. They were dead. He was alone. He collapsed to the floor in a sobbing heap. His future forever altered. Him forever alone._

"How much longer?"

"You need patience."

"I need a hot shower and a change of clothes but looks like I'm not getting that either," Eames sighs heavily as he looks at his watch. "Time to wake up now Arthur or else," he concludes with a small smirk as he looks at the young boy and winks.

"Patience. He'll awaken soon."

"Why did you help us?" Eames looks directly at the old man and wonders.

"For the money."

Eames feels his lips twitch as his brows arch; the old man smiling but not saying anything further.

"The money eh, I can live with that. Wasn't Ean White's name that forced action? Figured you two were still good mates."

"My grandfather hates Mr. White."

"Is that so?" Eames ponders in interest.

"去，並在另一個房間玩。" ["Go and play in the other room!"]

"Was it something I said?" Eames offer in sarcasm as he watches the little boy scamper into the other room and firmly close the door behind him; his eyes watching the old man reaching for something. Eames feels his frame bristle and immediately his right hand reaches for his gun, but pauses before actually drawing it out.

"Put gun away. This is for my tea. For my arthritis. I have no longer have loyalty to Mr. White."

"I'm sorry if it's a sore subject," Eames offers quietly as his right hand withdraws and his posture relaxes. "I'm grateful…I'm just curious."

"Mr. White kill my son, took his family. Leave me here with Arthur, my grandson. I don't want him to hear."

"Arthur? Your grandson's name is…Arthur?"

"Yes Arthur. Like King Arthur of _Cam-e-lot_," the old man over pronounces the word Camelot and making Eames lightly smile. "I owe Ean White nothing."

"Well I owe you my friend's life so thank you."

"He really is Mr. White's nephew?"

"Yes and what I said was true. Ean killed his parents also and left him all alone. Now Ean White wants to take by blood what's rightfully my friend's and he's the only one that can stop him for good," Eames states resolutely. "Now he just needs to wake up so we can get going."

"Wake up soon. More tea?"

"Thanks mate, I'm good," Eames replies as he turns back to Arthur. "Finally some color. Now just open those big brown eyes or…"

"Else."

Eames hears a small voice from behind and turns to see the small Chinese boy looking at him in wonder; the old man opening the door a few moments earlier to signal for the boy to return.

"Pardon?"

"You said or else a few times. What do you mean by that?" He innocently inquires.

"Well I hate waiting and I want my friend to wake up and if he doesn't I was going to threaten him with…."

"With what?" The little boy goads. "The or else?"

"Sure. Maybe I'd tickle him or try to scare him or…"

"Just don't wake me…with a magical kiss," Arthur's weak voice is heard, prompting Eames to turn to him in haste and the little boy run to get his grandfather. "Unless…you just did that? Eames…"

"Well you did kind of remind me of sleeping beauty," Eames winks as Arthur looks at him in utter horror. "I couldn't help myself."

"What?" Arthur hisses as Eames grins. "You kissed me?" He growls as Eames snickers.

"Why are you so angry? It worked didn't it?"

"But..." Arthur sputters in shock.

"Welcome back darling," Eames grins.

"Eames...tell me if..."

"Arthur we have company," Eames nods at the two strangers looking at him intently.

"Uh hi...okay we'll...finish this later," Arthur groans, telling himself that Eames was just jerking his chain. "We need to..."

"Rest a little while or I really will use those cuffs," Eames smirks as Arthur's face tries to offers a wry smile but ends up offering a grimace instead as he lowers himself back down. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was…used as the football…at the super bowl," Arthur groans as he touches his face and then looks up at Eames with a small frown. "Thank you."

"All I did was buy the antidote," Eames pulls back as the old man appears. "He had the magic potion."

"You need rest."

"I need to…" Arthur tries to sit up; only to have Eames strong hand rest on his shoulder and gently push him back down. "Rest….fine I'll rest. But only for a few minutes and that's final…or else," Arthur finishes as he looks directly at Eames who grins.

"Glad to see you're getting back to your stubborn self," Eames retorts as the old man turns to leave, heading for the small kitchen to make Arthur a fresh mug of the strong herbal tea. "Was worried for a brief spell there when you wouldn't respond."

"It was odd. I remember you shouting at me in the car and then darkness and then…an odd painful sensation in the darkness and then…then I was back at home the day we left for the orphanage. I saw myself asking my mother what was going on and her telling me we were going on a holiday. Then to the orphanage and then I was outside waiting. Then I heard you say you hated waiting."

"Wait….you were awake?" Eames asks with a hint of gruff frustration as Arthur looks up with a somewhat sheepish smile. "Bloody hell, what else did you hear?"

"Something about you wanting to be just like me," Arthur offers with a cocky tone. "At least in the clothing department, which trust me I agree."

"Oh you wound me love, I know you adore my dressing."

"Yes I adore mocking it. Any word on Ean?"

"No but I'm sure we can both guess where he's going. I think you need to sit this one out – for your own good. Which bank has Ean gone to?"

"No…way," Arthur strains as he tries to sit up once more. "I have to be there…be the one to stop him. Eames he murdered my parents. I want to be the one to put him away for good. This is family business. It's personal."

"You think he's telling you the truth about being your uncle? He's also a con man and a forger of sorts."

"Well just before he dies we can ask if he won't mind giving us a DNA test," Arthur argues back.

"Now that's being practical," Eames growls in sarcasm.

"I don't care about being practical right now. I want revenge, plain and simple. Figured you'd like that because it's what you would do," Arthur states matter of factly as he holds Eames gaze for a few seconds longer. "And don't you dare lecture me on taking it easy because I know you wouldn't!"

"Well you're not me and that's why we work well together."

"I'm going and that's final."

"Right but despite the warmth in your cheeks you look bloody pale."

"I was just forced drugs, you expect me to wake up looking my best?" Arthur snaps.

"No need to get testy, I was merely stating a fact."

"Oh I know what you want to say Eames, you're not exactly a mystery."

"I've always professed to be an open book but this isn't about me, is it?"

"Eames! Where are you going?" Arthur asks with a groan.

"To look for chloroform," Eames growls under his breath before as he looks back at Arthur and winks as the point man glares back in contempt. "Relax I'm going to see if our car is still outside. Leaving you behind would only garner me a nasty tongue lashing."

"Well if you want me to _physically_ kick your ass just ask," Arthur challenges, inwardly angry at himself for allowing Eames to ruffle his feathers so expertly as usual.

"Tempting love, very tempting," Eames chuckles as Arthur sits up on the bed and pauses before he stands fully upright. "But I've just been through hell and am not up to par."

Arthur only shakes his head as he finally looks over at the little boy who had been watching them in silent amusement. "You have any siblings?"

"I only have my grandfather, everyone else is dead," the small boy answers in truth as Arthur looks up at Eames in wonder as Eames nods in confirmation. "You fight like brothers but he has an accent."

"I was adopted," Eames grins as Arthur looks at him in annoyance.

"We're friends," Arthur states simply.

"Ask him his name."

"Arthur," the little boy replies, as Arthur's eyes slightly widen and Eames smiles.

"Good name," Arthur praises as he walks over to Eames and looks at him seriously. "Whether or not Ean White is actually my uncle, he did murder my parents. There was only truth in his eyes when he told me how much delight he took in killing them! Of that much I'm sure. I don't care about the rest."

"Ah but _your_ eyes don't lie…you do care," Eames whispers as he moves in closer; Arthur slightly freezing before he looks down and grits his teeth, his jaw hardening. "And he could use that against you and in that moment of weakness, seal the deal and take delight in killing you."

"I can't just walk away from this. It's not about the money; I've survived up until now without much and I'll continue to do so if I have to. I want to make this right for my parents. I might have been told lies my whole life and just gone about my business none the wiser, but now that I know who really killed them, I have a duty to them. Eames I need to do this."

Eames looks at the mixture of desperation and determination in Arthur's warm brown eyes and feels himself giving in against his better judgment and offering a small nod of compliance. "I get it. I'd want the same so for me to say no would be hypocritical."

"I'm tired, I feel like hell and probably look worse but I have to face him Eames. I have to look him in the eye and tell him that he's failed. And then I'll pull the trigger."

"And then we can have that drink?"

"Of course darling," Arthur slightly smirks as Eames gives him a small head shake. "I thought that accent was pretty good."

"Gave me goose bumps," Eames teases before his expression turns serious. "You know I'll back your play every step of the way," Eames tells him in truth; having no trouble with Arthur's revenge mission. "But if I see you faltering, even if you haven't gotten everything you've wanted and your life is on the line, I'm pulling the trigger. I'll suffer your wrath before I worry about Ean White's."

"Let's finish this."

* * *

**A/N:** Ah so you knew I couldn't kill our dear Arthur right? never! I just like to worry Eames a little hehe and you all a bit too! (I blame the muse for the latter!) But the final showdown is coming up next. Will Arthur get his revenge? Will he get a DNA test and will he finally be able to put the past to rest and move ahead? Hope you all liked this update and please do let me know your thoughts in a review before you go and thanks so much!


	15. Ending a Family Feud

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 15 – Ending a Family Feud**

* * *

"Thank you again," Eames offers the old Asian man with a smile and polite bow before he steps aside and lets Arthur have his turn at offering his own personal thanks. He studies his friend and knows that despite his outward determination, inwardly Arthur's about to crumble from physical and emotional fatigue. But Arthur's words ring loud and true in his mind – _'you'd do the same if you were in my place.' _And he knows he would so as much as he wants to continue to scold Arthur about him pushing himself too hard, he can't. However, he still can't resist teasing Arthur as getting a rise from the usually reserved point man was such a triumph and few could boast they actually carried it off successfully as he could.

"Keys," Arthur holds out his hand as they reenter the quiet alleyway, heading for the car.

"Oh I don't think so," Eames retorts firmly. "You are in no condition to drive."

"What? I'm fine Eames. Keys!"

"Did you forget you just woke up from a near death coma?"

"I wasn't dea…I'm fine and very capable to drive, besides you're tired."

"I might be tired but at least I know I'm not about to pass out from waking up after needing a lifesaving remedy, one I might add could still be questionable."

"Then if I pass out along the way feel free to take the wheel!" Arthur argues back as the two of them stand face to face in the dingy alleyway.

"Then rest up on the way to the notary and I won't have to."

"I will rest tomorrow. What I need right now is to finish this."

"What you need right now is to stop arguing and let me drive us away from here," Eames holds Arthur's gaze a few seconds longer.

"What I need right now is the keys to the car."

"What you need right now is for me to take you over my knee and spank some sense into your sweet arse but we both can't get what we want now can we?" Eames retorts with a smirk as Arthur pulls back in anger.

"You want to make jokes at a time like this?" Arthur shoots back incredulously.

"I was serious darling you do need that," Eames states seriously as he holds up the keys and then wraps his fist tightly around them. "But I am driving so let's go. I'm a better driver anyways," he adds before he turns and heads for the car.

"Your license should be revoked," Arthur mutters under his breath; Eames merely arching his brows in amusement as they near the old but so far reliable sedan. "If we can get to the notary in time we can stop this before he gets to the bank."

"Do you really think he's your Uncle?" Eames questions as he looks at the side of Arthur's face. "What happened before I arrived to find you near death?" He lightly presses as they pull away from the building.

"He…he showed me a picture. The date on it was authentic. Ah damn at least it looked authentic but I don't know. You can make just about anything look authentic if you want to these days but he said something…something my mother told me only in private. So unless the room was bugged…"

"Which it very well could have been," Eames suggests as Arthur's tormented gaze finally looks over at him in misery.

"Possibly. He still knew that detail somehow and that had to have been because my father told him because at one time he trusted him as his brother or…" Arthur's voice trails off as he looks out the window with a heavy sigh. "Or he's just a damn good liar and all this is a sham. Either way I want a DNA sample to put my mind at ease. No matter what we get that damn sample."

"So I should leave my pocket incinerator in the car?" Eames retorts as Arthur offers him a look that questions whether he can get one on such short notice. "Not that easy in the real world, even for me."

"Ah so you are human after all," Arthur smirks.

"Don't tell anyone or else," Eames teases in return.

"Speaking of that," Arthur looks at Eames with a serious expression. "Back in the old man's place, did you really…" Arthur stops as Eames offers him a wide grin.

"Did I what darling?" Eames goads as Arthur slightly narrows his gaze.

"I know you are completely playing with me so why do I bother?"

"Well not completely playing with you," Eames grins. "But if you want I can."

"I'm done with this."

"Oh I'm wounded love," Eames chuckles as Arthur grits his teeth, giving himself an inward growl at falling into yet another of Eames verbal snares. "Glad to see you're back to your old insufferable self. I quite missed this lovely banter we normally have."

"Even in a life or death situation?"

"Oh we always make time for fun don't we?"

"Yeah," Arthur mutters under his breath, knowing he's partially to blame for continuing the verbal sarcastic and often playful banter. But as he starts to stare absently out the window his mind drifts back in time once more…

_'My dear sweet boy I need to tell you something, a secret that you must never share.'_

_'Does daddy know?'_

_'Yes daddy knows also. The three of us only. No one else will ever know this.'_

_'What's it about mommy?'_

_'It's about who you really are.'_

Eames looks at the quiet building and then checks his weapon, the distinct 'click' the fully loaded magazine makes popping back into the handle of the glock pulls Arthur from his stupor; forcing him to retrieve his own weapon and check to see how well it's loaded.

"If he lives, we're both dead," Arthur simply states as they both get out of the car.

"Then let's put this bastard away for good and get that drink," Eames retorts firmly. "I'll take the back."

Arthur gives him a nod as he heads for the front door of the small lawyers office, hoping that Ean White was still inside; knowing his car a few lengths down from theirs, could have been left behind as a decoy. His heart starts to beat a bit faster as he nears the front door, Ean's tormenting words about taking delight in murdering his parents starting to hammer his mind and his fist tightens around the handle of the gun so much so that a few seconds later his weary knuckles start to throb.

He offers a silent prayer that Ean's still inside as he doesn't want it to get to the point where a lot of innocent people could be hurt by being inadvertently caught in the middle of the vengeful family feud. Arthur's gun hand drops to his side as he slowly pushes the door open and instantly lines up the lone female clerk in his sights. He puts a finger to his lips as he raises the gun and then points to the closed door of the single office. The clerk nods as she remains in place with a terrified look on her face.

Arthur motions with his head for her to move out of the way and fast, the clerk not needing another incentive as she pushes away from her desk and hurries past Arthur and outside into the street. Arthur hears Ean's unmistakable laugh and instantly his stomach tightens. He takes a deep breath before he slowly pushes the door open, Ean stopping mid-sentence before he turns to look at Arthur with an angry glare.

"So…you survived nephew. What a shame."

"Happy to disappoint you _Uncle_," Arthur states firmly as he raises his gun and the man behind the desk tries to move away.

"His quarrel is with me you twit!" Ean snaps at the pudgy lawyer who instantly stops moving before he turns to Arthur and folds his arms over his chest. "So now what? You and your loyal terrier outside are going to deal me some street justice?" Ean snickers.

"Actually, I was thinking I'd just pull the trigger and go collect my money," Arthur replies seriously as Ean's expression darkens.

"I earned that money!" Ean snaps as he leans in closer and Arthur's gun automatically rises.

"That money is mine and you don't scare me in the least. I've put away men not even half as evil as you and by put away I mean for life."

"I see a near brush with death hasn't dulled your defiance but I would be happy to oblige."

"You're not walking away from this alive Ean and that's a promise," Arthur states as he cocks the trigger.

"So you're just going to murder me in cold blood? Hmm I don't think you have it in you?" Ean goads, hoping to get Arthur to lose control and lower his defenses for even a second so he can pounce.

"Killing without remorse runs in the family or did you forget that?" Arthur counters with a twinge of sarcasm as Ean gives him a nod and whispers_ touché_ in disdain.

"So you've accepted your branch on our twisted family tree?" Ean ponders as he holds Arthur's gaze.

"I've accepted the fact that you're a first class liar but I'll know exactly who you are as soon as you're dead and I take a blood sample to the lab."

"Oh you don't really think you'll win do you?" Ean counters with a low growl.

"Oh I already have. I'm not here for the money. I'm here for revenge."

"Well I want both so it seems my ambition trumps yours," Ean tosses back with an evil sneer.

"Nothing's gone through or you wouldn't still be here."

"I underestimated your chances for survival."

"Turn around, right now."

"No. You want to murder me then you'll have to do it looking right at me," Ean challenges directly as Arthur raises his gun once more.

"You're under the impression I actually give a damn Ean," Arthur says in a calm tone. "I actually don't. And when you're dead, I'm taking that will right to the bank and then I'm going to buy myself and my loyal _friend_ a drink. Any sarcastic comeback to that?"

"Yeah…choke on it!" Ean hisses as his hand starts to reach for his gun.

But just before either Ean or Arthur can offer another word or deed, two shots pierce the air, the lawyer taking the opportunity to try to push his portly frame under the desk. In the melee, Ean's body is shoved forward by the movement of the desk, his right hand instantly dipping into his pocket to pull his gun free as Arthur fires off a shot; Ean's body ducking at the last second, forcing Arthur to miss his mark.

Arthur pulls back behind the door, ducking into the hallway but then uttering a small gasp as a bullet embeds itself into the wooden panel to the right of his face, a few shards breaking apart and flying in all directions. He narrows his gaze as he fires back at the female clerk he had shooed out earlier; his brain cursing the fact that he didn't lock the front door! Arthur takes a chance to look back into the room at the exact moment Ean White charges him.

Ean's body slams into Arthur's taking them both onto the desk and sending the upper contents flying in all directions; both guns clattering to the floor as they topple over the other side. The female bodyguard tries to fire off a shot, Ean barking at her to hold her fire so she didn't shoot him in the process. Arthur's head snaps back as Ean's fist punches him in the jaw but Arthur's fists grab the lapels of Ean's dark suit jacket and pull him forward, his knee coming up at the same time and delivering a hit to his groin.

Ean yells out an angry curse as his left hand latches onto Arthur's wounded arm, Arthur's lips automatically crying out in pain as he tries to pull himself free.

"Come on nephew, you'll have to do bet…" is all the goad Arthur lets Ean toss at him before his head sails forward, meeting Ean's forehead and forcing Ean's head to snap backward; both uttering weary groans. Arthur pulls back and dives over the other side of the desk to where he thought he had heard his gun fall.

"Shoot him now you moron!" Ean shouts at the female attacker. But just before she can fire off a shot, another shot rings out, hitting her right in the chest; her body falling to the floor dead as Eames comesinto view. Ean curses Eames as he hurls himself at Arthur's frame still on the floor trying to get his gun.

Arthur's fingers land on the handle of his glock and try to curl around it just as he hears the shot and knows that Eames timing had finally proved valuable. But just before he can grasp his weapon, Ean gives his feet a good yank backward and he's pulled out of reach from his means of salvation.

"Got you now!" Ean growls as he tries to get his gun and finish off the fight. In his mind, he knows that the fight belongs to Arthur to finish, but when he sees Ean pull Arthur away from his gun Eames tells himself to screw the plan and help Arthur before it's too late. However, just as he's about to pull Ean off Arthur, two other armed men rush in through the front door and another plan instantly springs into play, keeping himself very much occupied.

Ean tries to grab the gun but Arthur manages to twist around in his grasp and kick Ean in the side before Ean can deal him another blow to his already throbbing arm. Arthur's mind hears his parents uttering their last screams before their car became a twisted wreck of metal, telling him they love him no matter what and then Ean White laughing as he tells Arthur he personally volunteered to kill them – thus making him an orphan.

His right fist balls and he finds something to wedge his dark dress shoes against and pushes himself up and forward, his fist catching Ean's jaw on the bottom left and snapping his head back once more. Another hit…and another…his brain yelling at him to finish the battle or else he'd never be free – literally.

With Ean temporarily dazed, Arthur quickly scrambles away in search of his gun. He frantically looks around but sees nothing. Within seconds another gun is sliding on the floor toward him. Arthur doesn't have to have Eames actually tell him to pick it up and use it as that was a given; this was his fight to end and Eames respected that. Arthur's fingers curl around the handle, his body twists around onto his back as he prepares to end the fight for good. Arthur's dark eyes narrow as his finger eases back on the trigger of the gun pointed in the air.

At the exact same moment, Ean aims his gun at Arthur's heart, his mind not having the slightest inkling to negotiate his surrender as he eases back on the trigger; his gun pointing down.

The faster finger would end the feud and take back the future for good.

*bang*

Silence reigns supreme in the small law office for a few seconds longer before Ean's face distorts into an angry gasp before it falls to the floor – dead. Arthur remains in a semi-sitting position, his back still arched and hand tightly wrapped around the handle of the automatic weapon, his breath holding in case he had to fire off another shot.

It's only when he watches Eames come into view and check for a pulse on Ean White's neck and utters in a low tone it's finally over, does Arthur blink and swallow at the same time.

"Arthur…It's over," Eames tries to tell Arthur, his voice sounding very small and faraway in Arthur's ringing ears. But Arthur remains fixed in place, his mind trying to silence screams and then fill tormented silence at the exact same time – something he fails to do.

"Come now," Eames tells Arthur as his hand gently rests on Arthur's and pries the gun loose, Arthur's limp limb merely falling downward and resting on his lap.

"I did it for them," Arthur mentions firmly as he narrows his gaze at Ean White's lifeless corpse. "I WON!" He yells before he utters a small gasp and then closes his eyes, his face wincing heavily as his brain finally acknowledges the pain in his arm and jaw.

Eames leaves Arthur on the floor for a few moments and turns and heads back into the office, angrily pulling away the desk and aiming his gun down at the cowering lawyer who instantly raises his hands.

"I will only ask for the entire fire once."

"Top…dr-drawer," the man sputters in fear. "P-please don't shoot me. I didn't know what's going on."

"That man would have killed you so consider this your lucky day as I am almost out of bullets," Eames offers as he opens the file and briefly flips through the contents. He sees the phony death certificate, a copy of both wills, the real and the forged, a copy of the bank information as well as a few other pieces of personal information. But most of all he sees what key piece of information that Arthur was amiss to tell him earlier. Who he really is. He glances into the other room and watches as Arthur extracts an empty needle from Ean's pocket and then draws a sample of blood, reaching for his gun and then slowly standing up to face Eames with a weary expression.

"Now…it's over."

Eames gives him a nod before he leans down and looks at the lawyer with an angry scowl; the lawyer quickly pulling back as far as he could go. "I trust that you will say the right thing to the police. If not I will be back tomorrow with a mind to redecorate the interior with your weasily remains. Do we understand each other?"

"Y-yes," the man nods. "Ean and his girlfriend owed the other m-men money. I-I was caught in the crossfire."

Eames nods before he turns and heads toward Arthur, the sound of sirens in the distance beckoning them to make a hasty retreat.

"Weasily?"

"Like a weasel."

"You know _technically_ there is no such word as weasily Eames," Arthur states matter of factly as Eames face breaks into a wide grin.

"Oh darling you are so asking for that or else," Eames lightly warns as this time it's Arthur's turn to snicker. Both of them get into the car and casually drive away, rounding the block just as the police stop in front of the law office; the lawyer holding to his word and telling them that Ean White was killed in a shootout by men who wanted money; the small office not having any in-house security to back up that statement. It really was over.

Eames reaches the bank and stops the engine, turning to Arthur and holding out his hand.

"You already have the keys," Arthur deadpans as Eames smirks.

"Gun. You can't walk into the bank with an exposed weapon."

Arthur slowly hands Eames his gun and then takes the file from Eames grip and looks at him with a small frown. "Did you read what's in here?"

"I made sure what you need is in there but I'm no speed reader nor do I have a photographic memory. Whatever secrets you have and want to share I'll leave that with you," Eames offers in half-truth.

"Fair enough," Arthur nods as he turns to get out, offering Eames a heavier frown as Eames once again holds out his hand. "Do you want some gum?"

"I'll take the needle."

"Eames…" Arthur tries to protest.

"I'm going to drop the needle off for the DNA test and tell them to send the results directly to your cell tonight and…"

"Tonight?" Arthur asks in shock. "Do I want to know how you'll get them to do that?"

"I'll use my charm," Eames winks as Arthur merely purses his lips and reaches into his pocket for the blood-filled needle. "By the time I get back here you should be done tending to your family matters and then we can head back, get cleaned up and get that drink we have both so rightfully earned."

"Eames…" Arthur pauses before he gives him a tight lipped smile. "That actually works."

"Course it works. All my plans are brilliant," Eames boasts as Arthur opens mouth to protest but quickly shelves that thought, gets out of the car and heads for the bank. Eames watches for a few seconds before he pulls away and heads for the lab; his mind already to put into action his plan to pull his phony law enforcement ID in case there wasn't a beautiful woman to charm into doing his bidding.

Arthur heads for the client services desk and asks to speak to someone regarding wills and bank transfers.

"How can I help you?" The older man asks Arthur in wonder.

"I want to settle some details with my father's bank account and…my own," Arthur pauses as his heart starts to beat a bit faster. He hands over the pertinent documents, his eyes watching the older man's expression as he reads the documents and then looks up at Arthur and gestures for him to follow into his office.

XXXXXXXX

About two hours later, Eames pulls up to the front of the bank and watches Arthur emerge with an anxiety-laden expression as he heads toward the car, getting in and slumping down into the front seat but looking straight ahead.

"Everything right as rain?"

"Yes," Arthur simply replies, his jaw tight and his posture tense.

Eames takes his cue not to press for further details until they were both in a more relaxed setting and pulls away from the curb, Arthur watching the bank until it had disappeared and then just keeps an absent stare fixed outside the window as they head back toward the orphanage. As suspected by the time they get back, the open house is all but over, the guests and creditors taken their leave and the little boys getting ready for supper.

Without offering much more than a simple nod, Arthur heads past Garth's office and hurries up the stairwell, Eames following at a discreet pace. "I need a moment alone," Arthur tosses behind him as he enters his room and closes the door.

Eames pauses just outside to listen. At first he hears only silence but a small gasp is heard followed by a soft whimper and he knows whatever else Arthur learned in the file had finally taken it's toll, or maybe it was something Ean White had confessed in his final moments of life. Either way the physical and emotional events of the day were wearing down his friend and his heart was aching to do anything but listen or offer a weary shoulder to cry on; something he knows Arthur would never take advantage of, even if he wanted to.

_Damn stubborn pride, _Eames inwardly curses Arthur as he slowly heads for his own room to get cleaned up. He remembers the look of utter defeat on Arthur's face when he confessed that something Ean White had told him could be the damning truth; something he had no choice but to believe.

About half hour later Eames reemerges into the hallway and heads for Arthur's room, half expecting to push the door open and find him fast asleep on the bed. However, as the door pushes open all the way, he gets a sight he's not expecting.

Uttering a frustrated curse, Eames hurries back downstairs and enters Garth's office with a small frown.

"Where's Arthur?"

"He's gone."

* * *

**A/N:** so Ean is dead…but Arthur's gone. I hope you liked the lighter banter infused in a few places to counter the tension. But did Arthur get all his answers? Did he like them all? And any guesses as to where he's gone? Would love your thoughts in a review before you go so please press the little button (hey its gotten you 10 extra chapters Woot) and thanks so much!


	16. Laying the Past to Rest

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 16 – Laying the Past to Rest**

**A/N: wow everyone! **just reached 100 reviews for my first ever Inception story and it's all thanks to you! I hope you continue to like the rest and those of you who have alerted but not shown your appreciation yet for reading my hard work please take the time to drop me a line (yeah you know who you are ;) thanks everyone!

* * *

He didn't know how long he had stood before the grey tombstone. He forget the moment his mind and heart both started to ache. And he had forgotten all the words he had planned to say in the cab ride to the graveyard. Now he just stands in silent misery, wishing he was anywhere else but here.

"Why," Arthur's lips let out a low growl as he feels his fists tighten. "Why didn't…you ever tell me!" The pitch rises to an almost hiss of resentment. "I deserved…the truth," he concludes in a soft whimper as his warm eyes mist with angry tears once more.

He thinks back to the moment Eames closed the door; his mind making a deal with his body to get changed, get the damn drink and then literally just collapse in bed for the next few days. But that was rendered moot by a simple text – the DNA test results confirming what he feared – Ean White's blood held the same DNA trace markers as his; they were family. His eyes burned in that moment and his anger swelled, so much so that all he could do was grab a crumpled piece of paper and leave the room; forgetting jacket, phone or friend and leaving his already packed suitcase in Garth's care.

"WHY?" Arthur shouts as his stomach tightens further. "Why didn't…you tell me…in person," his voice quivers once more as he glances back down at his tightly closed fist – his mind already knowing what was hidden inside. "I had the right…to know!" Tears burn his eyes as they squeeze shut, his body slowly sagging to its knees as the sky darkens overhead.

"Why…why didn't you TELL ME?" Arthur shouts once more as he balls up his free fist and pounds it into the ground; the wound in his arm reminding him it still needed some attention and he needs to rest. "Why…" he utters in a sad whimper as he slowly opens his watery eyes and instantly sees a picture of himself with his mother the night of that party that Ean White had shown him the picture of.

_'A secret…about who you really are. You're real name is Oliver Arthur White,' his mother had told him. _

"Oliver," he repeats the name as if trying it out for himself for the very first time. "My name is Arthur," he growls in anger as he narrows his eyes at the modest tombstone. "My name is Arthur Collins! Not White…not White," he concludes with a tormented gasp; his heart continuing to beat painfully behind his ribcage. But inside the box that Ean had stolen was a copy of his original birth certificate. He feels a pang in his core from hatred and remorse at the same time the sky rips open overhead and a loud crack of thunder shakes the ground all around him; the sky threatening rain at any moment.

_'Your father is an honorable man but some of the people he works for aren't. No matter what anyone tells you, your father is an only child and you have no cousins okay? It's very important to remember this my son, it could mean your life.'_

"Okay," Arthur whispers as the same time the internal vision of himself agrees with his mother.

Of course at the time, and being the age he was when told, Arthur had readily agreed, telling himself that she was telling him the truth. That night he would meet Ean White briefly, but no name would be given and he'd just be pointed to a man that daddy works with and that's it; the fleeting face lost on the small boy and the name never registering when their paths changed to meet again many years later. It was only on the third and final meeting that the truth was brought to light by force and then confirmed by a very expensive machine.

"Why…" Arthur's voice dies out into an angry curse at the same time the sky finally opens a small slit and his weary frame is instantly pelted with determined droplets. He feels the watery blobs starting to seep through the dark fabric on his back…at least he feels them for a few seconds before they are gone. The rain isn't gone; only the penetrating liquid on his weary frame.

He blinks rapidly as his brain finally acknowledges another human form on its knees beside him.

"How'd you know where I'd be?" Arthur asks as his stony gaze is kept fixed on the tombstone before him.

"Figured after all that happened you'd want to confront them," Eames replies with a small frown; his body offering itself willingly to the onslaught of angry drops. "Even if they couldn't tell you what you want to know. I figured you'd come here. Garth sent me here."

"Ean was right. That stupid bastard…he was right."

"Sorry," Eames replies with a somber tone.

"I asked right?" Arthur retorts with a nervous smirk before his lips utter a low hiss. "The DNA test confirmed it but…" his voice dies out as the sky overhead rips open once more.

"Let's get you…."

"NO!" Arthur shouts as he pushes himself up off his knees and slightly stumbles away from Eames; his back at first to him as he remains fixed in place, Eames watching in misery. "I just want…I don't know what I want."

"I want you to come out of the rain. Can I at least get what I want?" Eames asks lightly as his lips offer a small smirk to Arthur's tense back.

"I want my father here so I can ask him just what the hell he was thinking!" Arthur growls as he turns back to Eames in angry remorse. "I want my mother here to explain to me why she told me that night that I don't have an uncle but then met him at….damn this is all messed up!"

"It's in the past darling, you need to learn to let it go," Eames states as he dares to take a step closer but then stops when Arthur's jaw instantly hardens. "Arthur…"

"NO!" Arthur shouts as he marches up to Eames and holds up the crumpled up letter. "My name is Oliver White and the man that had Ean White kill my father was Mario Cochini…"

"We know that but…"

"My other uncle!"

"What?" Eames asks weakly.

"My mother's maiden name was Cochini!" Arthur half shouts as his lungs gasp at the same time he tries to cough; Eames looking at him in shock.

"But…."

"Yes that's right, she lied too! Maybe I should have been a forger since I come from a whole family of LIARS!" Arthur tosses out before he realizes the slight he makes against Eames and his family and then falls back with a heavy look of remorse.

"I didn't mean to imply…"

"You're angry love I'm not taking your accusations at face value."

"She…she should have told me."

Eames slowly approaches and then without much fuss starts to unpry Arthur's fingers and then reaches for the letter from his mother, pulling back and then glancing down at the handwritten text, starting with the date.

"She could have told me….that I'm related to…or was…THE DAMN MOB!"

"She might have been coerced to write thi…"

"I had the same lab pull up the sample they have on file for Cochini and match it against the results they have on file for my mother and myself. The evidence doesn't lie Eames! So what the hell happens now!" Arthur demands in angry frustration.

"It's over, you said it yourself," Eames reminds him as he carefully folds the letter and tucks it into the driest pocket he can find. Then without asking, his hands gently latch onto Arthur's uninjured arm and lead him toward the overhang of a large tree, where they'd at least delay the rain soaking. "Arthur…"

"I'm not..." Arthur starts as he jerks his arm free and then turns to look at Eames with an expression so tormented, it instantly pierces Eames right through. "My whole life is a lie Eames. The family I thought I knew I don't know anything about. What other secrets are they hiding? WHAT?" Arthur shouts as he pulls back and storms up to his parent's small tombstone and glares at it in anger. "WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS SOONER!" He shouts as Eames remains in place; watching in silence.

Arthur turns back to Eames with a heavy, rain soaked frown. "I had to hear the truth about my parents from the man who murdered them?"

"Arthur…"

"That's not my NAME!"

"YES IT IS!" Eames shouts as he pulls away from the tree and faces Arthur head on. "They did what they thought best to keep you safe; you can't fault them for that now!"

"Yes I can! My father wasn't duped into helping Mario Cochini, he did it willingly!"

"I read the rest of the letter. Your mother also said that it was only two times and then he came clean and the two of them made a plan to get themselves out of trouble."

"And they were killed for it! Why the hell didn't he just….say no," Arthur's voice fades into an anguished whisper as his head hangs for a few seconds before he looks up at Eames inquisitive expression and narrows his gaze. "I guess it runs in the blood right?"

"What's that?"

"I know what you're thinking….why the hell am I so mad at my father when I turned out just like him?" Arthur demands angrily as he holds Eames gaze. "Just say…"

"Darling I'm not…"

"SAY IT!"

"YOU'RE NOT HIM!" Eames shouts back as Arthur's eyebrows slightly arch. "That's what you really want to hear right? Someone else tell you that you're not the kind of man to do business with the devil. Because when I say this you'll be able to hold up that bloody letter and argue back, saying you are the same man and you'll end up crossing someone else who will kill you just as they did. Am I right?" Eames challenges as Arthur turns his back on him.

"Just lea…"

"ANSWER ME!"

"YES!" Arthur shouts as he turns and storms back up to Eames so they are standing a few feet apart. "I am the same man as my father and I proved that by working for Frank Benson and even my murdering uncle. Yes how sick is it that I did a job for the same man that murdered my parents! I did it for the money!"

"You got out in time. You made the right call, you know that. Arthur, stop this, you can't change the past but you can accept it."

"Accept what Eames?" Arthur retorts stonily. "That I turned pretty okay despite the fact that my ass should be in the grave right now along with theirs? That my Uncle tried and nearly succeeded in murdering me; but he did succeed in murdering my parents. That my mother's family wasn't exactly upstanding citizens! And that my father broke the law willingly, so that's my legacy? He betrayed me! They all did!" Arthur hisses in contempt. "You want me to accept all that?"

"Yes fine. But your father tried to save his family and that's what counts the most. Don't lose sight of that fact. You're alive today because of their quick thinking. You know that."

"I wish I didn't know," Arthur groans as he turns away, his body starting to feel the chill from the rain despite the fact that Eames coat was keeping most of it off his slightly trembling back. "I wish I could go along blissfully naïve and tell myself that I had the perfect family life only my family was killed in a freak car accident and I was brought up by a trusted friend instead of knowing that my money laundering father was murdered by his brother on an order from his mob boss BROTHER IN LAW!" Arthur finishes in another hoarse shout as he narrows his dark gaze before he pushes past Eames and storms back toward the tree.

Eames curses at the exact same moment the sky overhead rips open once more and then slowly heads back toward Arthur's shivering frame. "Come now darling, you're freezing."

"I don't care Eames. How can I just…move past this and act like it's no big deal."

"I'm not asking or suggesting you simply forget all this because I don't think even I could do that and I'm not suggesting that you have someone fiddle with that brilliant brain of yours and erase the memory or replace it entirely. You need to acknowledge that it is a part of who you are and then come and get….what is it you yanks say…wasted?" Eames gently smirks as Arthur's face remains rigid. "You are not the exact same man as your father but you do have the instincts in you to survive. He had that."

"He's dead! What the hell good did his instincts do him?" Arthur fires back as he holds his ground.

"You're still alive," Eames growls in return as his steel blue gaze burns into Arthur's soul, "that's what he did."

Arthur remains fixed in place for a few moments longer before another clap of thunder forces his body to slightly shudder with the loud boom. "I wanted Ean to be wrong."

"You're not Ean and you never will be," Eames kindly reminds him as his hand rests on Arthur's cold and trembling shoulder. "Your father made a terrible mistake but he owned up to it and he made sure that the one person who wasn't involved in it was taken care of. Arthur he could only give you your life at the end and he did; you're here because of him. Your mother wasn't the same as her family and you're alive because of her discretion. You can take comfort in a few things but ending up like Ean White isn't one of them."

"I don't want to turn out like my father either Eames," Arthur counters angrily. "I don't give a damn about Ean White but I don't…want to turn out like my father," Arthur's voice cracks as his eyes water. He turns away as an angry sob escapes his lips and he utters an angry cry toward the darkening heavens.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE MY FATHER!" Arthur shouts as his fists shoot up toward the sky before his whole body drops to his knees and his head hangs low. "I don't…want to be him," Arthur adds once more as Eames bends down to help get Arthur back upright.

"You are your own man Arthur Collins," Eames whispers as Arthur turns and looks at him in sheer misery. "Oh that face isn't fair," Eames frowns as he helps Arthur stand up. He holds his slightly trembling frame a few seconds before he lets go and stands back, looking at Arthur in concern. His fingers gently push a few soaked, dark strands off his forehead before they threaten to drop anymore droplets into his eyes; his hands pulling the collar a bit tighter around Arthur's neck before he gives him a brief but supportive hug and then pulls back with a heavy frown.

"How do I move past this?" Arthur begs weakly.

"You take it one moment at a time," Eames replies as his frown lessens.

"How?"

"With help from caring friends," Eames reminds him as Arthur's face finally softens. "But you need to get out of this bloody awful weather. I hate the rain."

"It rains in London," Arthur states absently.

"I live in Mombasa now," Eames counters with a small smile. "I can't understand what you're feeling inside but I understand the anger and wanting to lash out at anything that you can physically put your hands on. But you can't this time. This is too personal and that's what really hurts. Everyone that could give you a good explanation is dead and that would be frustrating as hell."

"I just wish one of them was here…hell I'd settle for Ean right now just to know…damn I know no matter what I'm told, nothing will ever make this right in my mind."

"You're alive. Hang onto that."

"Eames…" Arthur's tries once more as another angry burst of thunder drowns out his small plea.

"Right, it's time to go now."

This time Arthur doesn't offer much in the way of verbal or physical resistance as he allows Eames to gently lead him back to the waiting car and into the front passenger seat; closing the door behind and then hurrying to the driver's side and quickly turning on the engine. He looks over and studies the tight jaw on Arthur's damp skin and frowns before he clears his throat, causing Arthur's tormented dark gaze to lock with his once more.

"It's over," Arthur whispers before he leans his head back on the headrest and closes his weary eyes. Eames mind finally settles as he slowly pulls away from the cemetery and heads back for the orphanage. Garth had told him that Arthur left everything with him, only taking two folded up pieces of paper and telling him to sell the rest; including his jacket with his ruined token inside the inner jacket pocket. Eames of course refused and at the sake of pulling his gun begged Garth for a location – where could Arthur have possibly gone.

The first person to greet them in the orphanage is Garth, who pulls Arthur into his arms and holds him tightly as he whispers he's sorry but he's glad he's okay. Eames gathers up Arthur's suitcase in his left and then gently guides Arthur upstairs with his right. He helps him take off his rain soaked coat – Arthur offering nothing in return only marveling at Eames attentive concern. There wasn't anything awkward between them, it was comforting, protective, brotherly and Arthur's soul holds onto that feeling as a drowning man would his last life raft before going under.

"Shower up darling, you're freezing and then we'll get something warm into you."

Arthur nods as he takes the pile of warm clothes in his grasp and turns and mechanically heads for the bathroom. Eames waits until he hears the shower start up before heading for his own room to dry and put on some warm, clean clothes; having already showered earlier.

He thinks about all the sordid details that Arthur had shared and couldn't fault him for feeling so angry and defeated at the same time; his mind vowing to keep an eye on the currently distraught point man not only in the coming hours but to make a habit of keeping an eye on him in case he was to stray down a course of guilt and self-destruction. The details they could work out later, but he would suggest a regular meeting by a warm fire place with two glasses of fine single malt scotch to just sit and catch up.

Eames heads back into the hallway and makes his way down to Arthur's room to see if he was ready to head out to a favorite neighborhood spot and get that drink he'd been promising for a few days now. Just for fun he had shoved a pair of handcuffs into his pocket and grins as he nears Arthur's door. This time, however, when he pushes it open, the sight before him is expected and warms his heart.

Arthur curled under the covers – fast asleep. The drink, while it would be coming, was now on hold for at least a few hours; something Eames doesn't mind in the least.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so I had originally planned for this to be the ending but then I didn't want to rush anything or make it super long so I hope this is okay and you're not all disappointed with a bit more to come (just to wrap it up a bit and maybe leave a few things open *wink*). So did you guess Arthur went to the cemetery? What did you think about his family history? Hope you liked how he's finally gotten some closure. Please do leave your thoughts before you go and thanks so much!


	17. A Hidden Agenda

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 17 – A Hidden Agenda**

* * *

As predicted, his sleep's disturbed; his mind filled with distorted images of his parents in the car wreck, Ean White laughing as he kills Eames and then himself, his father saying he's disappointed that Arthur didn't carry on the family business and then his mother introducing him as the new head of the Cochini crime family. The last image is that of himself being blown away in a fiery shootout that forces his eyes to snap open and his lips to gasp. He tries to sit up and rub his face but quickly finds he's unable.

"Are you kidding me? Eames!" Arthur hisses as he looks at his right wrist and the handcuff securely fastening it to the right metal bedpost. He sees a hand-scribbled note that reads 'stay' on the pillow beside him and growls as his free fist balls up the paper. He can only curse his friends name as he slumps back down into the nest of covers, his free left hand reaching up and testing the temperature of his forehead for a few seconds before it slumps back down at his side.

_'If we could have parents what do you think they'd be like?'_

Arthur's mind hears a small voice asking and instantly he's whisked back in time, seeing himself in the playground a year after his parents were killed; talking with two other boys.

_'Normal I guess. You know just regular people,' Arthur had shrugged._

_'You always say that,' one of them shot back, 'don't you want to think about having a family that is like rich and famous and you could live anywhere and have all the toys you want.'_

_'But that's not real,' Arthur argued in return._

_'No but it's a dream. It's my dream.'_

_'Dreams aren't real,' Arthur stated firmly. _

_'Don't you dream Arthur?' Another asked in wonder._

_'I won't ever dream again,' he had stated somberly before he stormed off in a fitful huff._

"Normal," he slightly huffs, "my family turned out to be far from normal."

He tries to shift onto his other side but the handcuff keeping his right wrist trapped pulls him back to his original position and he can only growl before he tries to wiggle his slim wrist free. "Tightest setting. Damn you Eames!" The curse escapes his lips the exact same moment that the door slowly opens and Eames delighted face peers around it.

"Welcome back darling."

"Why the hell am I handcuffed to the bed Eames?" Arthur demands with a low growl as he tosses the wadded up warning note at Eames.

"Is that rhetorical?" He counters with a grin as Arthur's dark eyes narrow. "The last two times I've come back here you've been gone. This was my insurance."

"You could have just asked me to wait," Arthur grumbles as he slumps back down.

"Stay."

"Stay…wait. Whatever."

"Oh now where's the fun in that?" Eames grins as he nears the bed and eases himself down into a nearby chair. "Besides I was starting to feel a bit letdown at finding you without wearing handcuffs."

"Sorry to disappoint. Now undo this Eames!"

"Oh love don't make me pull out the gag," Eames winks as Arthur looks over in shock. "Please say you wouldn't dare."

"Forget it," Arthur grumbles.

"Spoiled sport," Eames retorts before his expression turns serious. "Sleep well?"

"No," Arthur answers stormily as he looks away and then back at Eames as he tugs on his captive wrist. "Where is the damn key?"

"In my damn pocket," Eames answers firmly as Arthur glowers at him before he slumps back in defeat.

"First time I've really dreamt in a while and it has to be nightmares instead of something happy or fun. And yes before you say it…I do know what fun is?"

"Do tell," Eames grins as he folds his arms over his chest, making no attempt to free Arthur just yet.

"Undo this first!"

"Ask nicely," Eames teases as Arthur fumes. Arthur's somewhat weary frame sags back into the bed as he looks away in frustration.

"I remember having this discussion with some kids about a year after my parents died…just a stupid conversation really about what we thought our parents would be like if we had them. The other two never knew theirs so could make up whatever they wanted. I said mine were normal. Normal," Arthur's lips offer a sarcastic chirp, "they were anything but normal."

Eames expression clouds as he watches Arthur's fist tighten and slowly reaches into his inner pocket for the small handcuff key.

"I'm not like them Eames," Arthur looks over with a serious gaze, his words forcing Eames actions to halt temporarily.

"You've had plenty of opportunities to go that route if you so wanted but haven't yet. We each make our own path mate. I never went the route of my father."

"Yeah what was he, gun runner?" Arthur smirks.

"Cobbler."

"What?"

"Surprising right?" Eames counters.

"Might explain why you actually know a thing or two about good shoes. Too bad he wasn't a fashion designer," Arthur lightly snickers.

"Oh that wounds me love. What's wrong with this paisley shirt?"

"Actually…that one's not _that _bad."

"Really?" Eames grins.

"There I said something nice, now undo this damn thing!" Arthur tugs on his captive wrist. "I've proven I'm not about to slip away right now."

"And later?"

"Later?"

"After we've had our drink, packed up and make a plan to head back to civilization, what then? Will you be joining the team on our next out of this world adventure or will you be pursuing an adventure of your own and possibly getting into new trouble?"

"I'm torn about finding out more," Arthur replies with a heavy sigh. "Part of me wants to see if I have any other relatives around and if some of them turned out to be…well normal. I can't be the only one that…" his voice dies out as his teeth grit.

"That what?"

"I was going to say has an honest job but its not like I do so I guess that would be hypocritical," he groans as he looks over at Eames with a heavy frown. "What would you do?"

Eames looks at the expectant, almost innocent pleading expression on Arthur's face and feels his stomach sink. Of course he'd want to find more…research his past even if it meant possibly damaging the future. Being curious was his nature. But his family history didn't have the sinister elements that Arthur's now has and he knows he can't send his friend off on some half-cocked adventure alone.

"I would have a drink first and then see what follows."

"You know I'll ask again," Arthur persists as Eames reaches into his pocket.

"I have a remedy for that."

"What the hell is that?" Arthur looks at the object used for silencing an adult in Eames hand in utter shock. "Where…did you get that?"

"Happened upon it," Eames grins as he dangles it before Arthur's narrowing eyes.

"You just carry it around for something to do?"

"Only when I'm around you love. Might look rather fetching on you and would keep you quiet when I need you to be, like right _now_," Eames retorts in mild annoyance.

"I swear you come near me with that thing and I will use this," Arthur warns as he quickly pulls his gun from under his pillow and aims it at Eames who merely looks back with an amused grin before he shoves the black leather adult toy back into his pocket and finds the key; holding it up for Arthur to see. "About bloody time."

"Love when you curse darling," Eames snickers as he stands up and nears Arthur's captive frame. "You're not ticklish by chance are you?"

"I'm not even going to say I dare you to try because I know you love a challenge," Arthur tosses back as he holds up his captive wrist and Eames offers a mock pout; the gun now resting on his lap. "Now."

"Oh come at least ask nicely," Eames huffs.

"Now _Eames_," Arthur demands as Eames holds his ground. "Ah damn you. Please?"

"Really need to work on those manners," Eames chuckles as he then pushes the end of the small key into the lock, springing it free and allowing Arthur's wrist to pull out. "Thank you," Arthur adds gratefully as he rubs his slightly aching wrist; pushing himself up to a seated position on the large poster bed. "I came back here wanting to just…I don't know what I wanted but I know what I'm taking away."

"You're only focusing on the negative again."

"I have a bank account full of money and a past I would gladly empty that account to erase…maybe I could…" Arthur's voice dies out into a soft whisper as Eames looks at him in wonder. But a few moments of silence build before Eames leans back in his chair with a heavy sigh and a small head shake.

"As much as you hate to accept it, it's who you are. You can't erase that."

"I could, you know I could."

"I won't let you dabble with your own memories or think about inflicting possible brain damage on yourself. And don't dare me to stop you because I can and will. Give yourself a break and some time. You've just learned your family isn't what you had wanted, you can't change that but you will have to accept it."

"I guess," Arthur remarks somewhat casually as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, rests his elbows on his knees and cradles his head. "Maybe it's time to get back to Paris," he comments, his dark gaze kept downward on the floor for a few seconds before he looks back up. "I could use that drink….without the cuffs," he smirks as he finally stands upright and heads for the bathroom muttering in an undertone about what else Eames had hidden in his pockets and how he didn't want to find out.

Eames watches the door close and then settles back in his chair, his mind thinking back to the uncertainty in Arthur's tone about accepting his past but not wanting to push the issue further or call Arthur on it, he bites his tongue and takes it at face value; they'd have their drink, talk about this adventure, head back to the airport and then meet again at Cobb's bidding.

"I need to see Garth before we go," Arthur walks back into the main room, looking finally himself; hair slicked back, slim black leather coat atop a dark pinstriped dress shirt, twinkle in his eye and small smirk on his lips. But it was his tight jaw and tense posture that betrayed his inner anxiety; this was far form over in the point man's mind and to Eames that was dangerous. "I think this should help for a while."

"Very generous." Eames looks at the check before he hands it back to Arthur with an approving nod. "Your father would be proud."

Arthur's jaw tightens as he offers Eames a small nod, tucking the folded up paper into his pocket before both of them head out into the quiet hallway. "I need to get a new token," Arthur mutters in exasperation.

"Any custom die makers in the area?"

"Actually…I do know of one."

The two of them head downstairs, Eames hanging back and out of sight as he was no longer disguised as Tim Charland.

"But…my dear boy I couldn't possibly…" Garth gently sputters as he looks at the numbers on the paper in his hands before trying to shove it back into Arthur's open grasp. "It's too much. I don't want you to no…no I cannot accept this. I'll get my funding…"

"Garth," Arthur's kind but firm tone stops the older man's nervous ramble. "I want you to have this," Arthur insists as his fists ball. "Trust me this…you saved my life. Literally."

"Arthur…"

"No please," Arthur's dark eyes soften as his tone drops to a pleading note. "You literally saved my life by changing my name for a second time, keeping pictures of me away from prying eyes and keeping me safe. I've recently learned a few things about my past that…I can't say but I just need you to believe me when I say you kept me alive. I came back here wanting to show my appreciation and if this can help keep the home open for a few more years and help other boys like me, then this is the best way I can say thank you. Please take it."

Garth looks at Arthur before pulling him into his arms and holding him close a few seconds before he takes the check and tucks it into his pocket; offering a warm smile and a nod of thanks. "I would say thank you but it almost doesn't seem enough for something this generous."

"What good is money if you can't help those you care about right?"

"Dear boy, I'm glad you came back," Garth offers kindly. Arthur's back slightly stiffens but he offers a tight smile and nods, knowing it wasn't fair to Garth to unload all his family misdeeds on the older man who had shown him nothing but kindness. Besides Eames had already been more than a sounding board. "What are your plans now?"

"I'm going to show Eames around a bi…"

"Who?"

"A friend," Arthur lightly chuckles as Garth's face offers a frown of wonder. "Just show him the neighbourhood, pick up a few things and head back home to Paris."

"Sounds like you have it all figured out."

"For now."

"Say goodbye before you go."

"I will."

Arthur heads into the hallway, heading for the doorway and then outside to Eames who pulls away from the cement pillar he was leaning against. "Ready?"

"Lead the way."

"You know I kinda miss the mustache," Arthur chuckles as they head down the street at a slow pace.

"You know you're really asking for it," Eames tosses back seriously as Arthur grins. The two of them head into a quaint English style pub, Eames of course all in favor; settling into a booth near the back and looking at the drink offerings first. "This is your favorite place?"

"I guess I was channeling my inner Eames long before we met," Arthur smirks as he looks up as the waiter nears. They place their drink orders and then settle back to enjoy the evening and each other's company.

"So have you looked through the rest of the box your mother left?"

"Dissected each piece a few times over. I kept asking myself what I'd be like now…what my life would be like now had I stayed with them…had they lived," Arthur muses as he leans back in the booth. "And then I stop. I see Ean's face smiling before they die and then myself as his son and I shudder. Then I think about pony's or…"

"Pony's?" Eames brows wag as Arthur's face warms from embarrassment.

"Something other than me dying in a blaze of bullets," Arthur groans as he takes a sip of his strong single malt scotch; his face instantly relaxing as the warmth slides down his throat and starts to calm the agitation in his stomach. "I don't want to talk about them anymore," Arthur mentions suddenly as he looks up with a darker than normal gaze. Eames looks at the tight jaw and determined expression but knows it's not the time to force an argument; stating that it wasn't good to keep all his negative feelings and emotions bottled up inside. "I'm not like you Eames. I know you'd rather talk things out…get it all in the open."

"Keeping it all inside isn't healthy," Eames simply points out.

"Just no more tonight. Please?"

"Well when you ask so nicely," Eames nods and smiles. "Fair enough. Tell me more about these pony's. Were they my little pony's per chance?"

"I knew I'd regret saying that," Arthur groans as they continue to slowly enjoy their drinks.

But Eames keeps to his promise of not delving back into Arthur's sordid family past for the remainder of the evening, so that they are able to also enjoy their meals without the tightness in their bellies from the past few days. After dinner they once again head back outside into the cool night air, this time hopping into a cab that takes them to the other side of town so that Arthur could get his new token.

"Red again?" The die maker inquires as Eames looks around the small shop in intense curiosity.

"Red again," Arthur nods as he turns to see Eames holding his token – a personalized gambling chip.

"You boys heading out to a casino tonight?" The die maker nods to the object in Eames hand.

"Possibly," Eames replies as his fist closes tightly around his token, holding it a few seconds before he shoves it back into his pocket and starts to slowly mull around the shop while he waits. Arthur watches Eames, giving the master forger a small headshake before he goes back to watching the man before him create a new token; once again something unique only to him. His eyes slightly narrow as he recalls Bryan fondling his token and then casually tossing it aside; telling him that he wouldn't be needing it any longer.

"Damn bastard," Arthur curses under his breath, his back to the die maker, who pauses in his task, looking up and exchanging a wondering glance with Eames before the silence forces Arthur to turn back to see two sets of eyes waiting for an explanation. "Sorry…it's nothing."

The die maker continues; almost finished. Eames slowly makes his way toward Arthur, looking at him in question.

"Bryan," Arthur quickly qualifies his earlier outburst. Eames nods in understanding before he turns and looks at something Arthur was also. Arthur pulls the silver toned weapon toward them and looks at the pure ivory handle with intricate detailing on the handle. He studies it for a few minutes before he slowly puts it back.

"That's for sale if you want it," the die maker pipes up.

"Ah thanks but I have one already."

"Oh come on darling, spend some of Ean's hard earned money," Eames quips as Arthur shakes his head no. "You know you can afford it."

"I have one already."

"Something that attractive should have a new mate. It looks kinda lonely sitting there all by itself," Eames offers lightly as Arthur's face softens. "You know you want it."

"That's a fine weapon in your hands," the die maker pipes up as both Arthur and Eames look back. "Want to know it's history? It's kinda dark. That's cool these days."

"No!" Arthur blurts out in haste. "I've had enough of past dark history."

"Why not give it a fresh start also hmmm?" Eames half whispers as Arthur tosses him a deadpanned expression. "He'll take it."

"Eames!" Arthur hisses as Eames cocks his head.

"Don't make me silence you right here love," Eames winks as Arthur fumes. "Do you have any bullets to go with it?"

"Silver ones. I'll get em for you. Hold on."

Arthur looks at Eames but says nothing as he collects the attractive weapon and its case, putting the gun into the case and then placing it on the table beside his freshly created die. He picks up the token, no one having touched it after the final weighted piece was put in. His brain studies the side that is weighted, noting the weight in his grasp and then heading to a table to test it out. Eames respects his privacy by keeping his back turned; Arthur rolling the die and watching it land as it should.

"Perfect," Arthur exclaims as he tucks the token into his pocket and then pulls out his wallet; the die maker coming back with two small boxes in his grasp. Arthur gives Eames a small hiss as he pulls out the money, Eames offering his stubborn friend an amused chuckle as he watches Arthur tuck the items into a small cloth bag and then head for the front door; actually the only door that leads into a dingy alleyway.

"Everything back to normal now?" Eames inquires as they slowly head toward the front street to hail a cab to get back to the orphanage, collect their things and head out under the cover of darkness; Arthur mostly honoring Eames request as he had run out of fresh supplies to keep the Tim Charland persona up one more day.

"For now," Arthur replies slowly as they sit in the back of the cab on the way to the orphanage. Arthur's dark gaze drops down to the bag on his lap; his mind recalling the gun that Ean White had used; one almost similar except for the details on the ivory and he feels himself shudder. _What the hell was I thinking when I bought this damn thing? At least I can blame Eames for this!_

"I wish you could have stayed longer," Garth tells Arthur in truth as Arthur pulls back from one final fatherly hug; Eames and their luggage waiting in the hallway.

"I have to get back home," Arthur admits in truth. "I know coming back here for me was…well to be honest a mix of a blessing and a curse, but I'm glad I did."

"I am too. Don't stay away too long next time."

"I promise I won't."

With that Arthur offers one last smile and then disappears into the hallway, Garth closing up for the night and watching as the tail lights of the taxicab disappear around the corner before he looks back at the picture of Arthur on his desk.

Arthur leans back in the cab and stares absently at the dark ceiling before directing his gaze outside as the city slowly passes back. The cab finally comes to a stop outside the international departure section of JFK International Airport; the luggage taken from the trunk and Eames offering the tip.

"So remember our deal now," Eames reminds Arthur as they slowly head toward the check in desk.

"Trust me, if I forget one month, I'm sure you'll hunt me down and use whatever means you have in your pocket at the time to remind me," Arthur snickers.

"Well when you put it that way…I do hope you forget one month," Eames snickers as he checks in his suitcase and then takes his boarding pass; Eames heading back to his current home in Mombassa but Arthur to his in Paris; their plan to meet back at the English pub in New York, once a month if possible to catch up and further cement their growing friendship. "I know you don't want to talk about your past or your family but I'm hoping that in a week or so the phone will ring and your charming voice will be on the other end asking to just…talk."

"I'm fine with it. I come from a family of liars, murderers and the mafia," Arthur shrugs casually. "What's there to be ashamed of?"

"It's not about being ashamed. When you build something up in your mind, an ideal, and then to hear and see first hand that ideal shattered before your adoring brown eyes by your own family, it can and will take its toll if you don't deal with it. You know you can trust me and I know what you know now…maybe not all but you know you can talk to me about what happened or what you learned and I won't judge. I haven't yet and I'm not about to. Just don't think you're alone."

"Okay," Arthur nods as he looks away and then back at Eames with a softer expression. "I'm glad I had you at my side for all this."

"Bloody hell you're glad," Eames grins as he slaps Arthur on the back; Arthur's lips offering a brief laugh. "Who else has the charm or the brass balls to help get you through this eh?"

"Take care Eames."

"You as well," Eames gives Arthur a friendly hug. "I'm sure Cobb will be calling us soon."

"I expect a well put together suit next time we meet."

"Oh where's the fun in that darling? I'll leave the dapper dressing to you and the flights of fancy to me."

They banter back and forth a bit longer about clothes and shoes, before the boarding call comes in and it's time to part ways and head for home. Eames watches Arthur's tense shoulders meander through the crowd before he disappears through the gate for his plane; Eames finally heading toward his own. The flight to their respective parts of the world is fitful for both of them as Arthur can't help but dwell on the things he learned and how wrong he had been about his family and what he'd ultimately end up like and Eames can't help but worry that Arthur will spiral downward if left alone and unchecked for too long.

***three weeks later***

"Cobb…good to see you," Eames embraces his friend with a tense smile as he pulls back in wonder. "Don't tell me I'm the first to arrive? You mean I actually beat Arthur?"

"Arthur…" Cobb replies before he looks away, Eames mind starting to panic as Cobb looks back in concern. "He's not coming this time."

"What? What's going on Cobb? Where's Arthur?" Eames instantly inquires, already coming to the meeting with a mind to ask Arthur why he had been avoiding his calls.

"He said he had family business to tend to."

"Family…business," Eames lets the tormented word bite his tongue before he continues. "What family business Cobb? Arthur has no family to…where is he?"

"That's his concern, not ours. At this exact moment I don't know. I pulled Jerry for…"

"When did you talk to him last?" Eames presses as he reaches for his phone.

"Eames, he said this was private and his concern and for us to respect that, especially you," Cobb warns gravely.

"He said especially me? Bloody hell."

"He's got a few things to take care of and we need to respect that. Jerry is more than capable and I trust him."

"When did you talk to Arthur last?"

"I saw him about a week ago. He was fall down drunk but said it was family business and for me to let it go. When I called him a few days later to see how he was and offer him a job, he said he was in the middle of something and he'd catch me next time. We all have family stuff we have to handle on our own Eames, you know that. Arthur's no different. Let it go. He…"

But Eames mind had already drowned out Cobb's pleading for him to just let it go as he pulls his phone and dials Arthur's number. "Pick up the phone you stubborn little sod," he grumbles as the line finally connects. "Arthur! Where the blo…"

_"Ea…mes… " static…_

"Arthur? Arthur!"

* * *

**A/N:** Okay I liedddddddd. I honestly was going to end the story with this chapter and then work on the new story that I have told some of you about but I wanted to add a bit more to Arthur's storyline with his sordid family past and hope it's okay you get a few more chaps. So is there really some family business? Who if anyone did Arthur find now? Will Eames just let it go or will he react? Would love your thoughts as always (they're golden and keep extending the story ) so please do review before you go and thanks! You're all amazing!


	18. Shaking the Family Tree

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 18 – Shaking the Family Tree**

* * *

"Arthur?" Eames mind races as he listens to the line go dead on the other end of the phone in his hand.

"Eames!"

"One…second…" Eames lightly growls as he presses redial.

"What is going on?" Cobb presses as he gently pushes Eames toward the edge of the gathering team and looks at his forger in wonder.

"I'd like to know…bloody hell answer the phone," Eames growls as he presses redial, praying that Arthur's voice is heard on the other end of the line. "Pick up."

"Eames!" Cobb's voice snaps as Eames looks at him sharply. "Arthur is taking care of family business."

"He's in trouble."

"Based on what? He doesn't want to answer you?" Cobb retorts as Eames looks at him with a heavy frown; the silent phone sitting ready in his hand. "You two are all of a sudden close buddies?"

"He'd answer if he could."

"He might not want to," Cobb argues back.

"Maybe but…look it's a long story and we don't have time. Last week Arthur and I were supposed to meet and he never showed. I called and left…bloody hell pick up already," Eames growls as he hangs up and looks at Cobb with a stony gaze. "I left two messages and he never called back. Got your call and figured I'd talk to him here. Well we're here and he's not."

"He has family…"

"He has no family!" Eames hisses as he draws a few curious stares from the rest of the team standing a few meters away. "Cobb…something's wrong."

"I realize you're concerned but maybe this is something so personal that he doesn't want any outside interference. We have to respect that, especially you."

"He doesn't have family."

"I know Eames. I've known Arthur longer than you," Cobb leans in with a serious expression.

"Did you ask him what it's about? Do you know?"

"No and…"

"Okay so let me just take this call an…" Eames stops just as his phone buzzes in his thick palm. He looks at 'Arthur's' name on the LCD display and slightly cocks his head to see Cobb watching him intently. He quickly opens the message and frowns as he reads it.

"What?" Cobb demands with an impatient tone.

"It uh…it says _everything's fine Eames see you next time_."

"Well I take it, this is all settled," Cobb states simply as he looks at Eames with a nod before he turns back to the team, leaving Eames standing in place looking back down at the phone.

_'Where are you?' _Eames texts back. He waits for a few seconds longer until Cobb's tone snaps him to attention and he is forced to put away the phone and join the rest of the waiting team for the real task at hand. _Damn it Arthur…what is going on? Family business? Is that where have you been all these weeks? What are you doing going after them alone? _And despite standing next to Yussuf and Ariadne in body, his mind was nowhere near the assembled group. It was elsewhere. With a friend. A friend he knows is in trouble but doesn't know where. _Damn it Arthur, where are you! You better be okay!_

***somewhere in NY***

"Well I think he bought that," a low mocking voice smirks before he tosses the phone onto the floor and crushes it with his heel. He slowly walks up to the bars before him and stares into the dimly lit prison at the angry dark gaze before him; a slow smile spreading across his face. "And that buys me…a bit more time with you as well."

He gestures to the two men on either side of him to leave; their job of restraining their prisoner taken care of.

"You know…I did warn this would happen. Why didn't you just listen? Things could have been perfect…for both of us."

XXXXXXXX

***three weeks earlier***

Arthur slowly pushes open the door to his apartment in Paris, tired and emotionally drained from the past week's events in New York. He dumps his suitcase onto the floor, heads for the kitchen and pulls the jug of cold water from the fridge, downing the contents within seconds. The plane ride home as expected was spent in mental torment as Arthur's mind processed every fact he had gleaned on his own and was forced to realize over the past week; some welcomed but most not.

"Shoulda just come straight home after the Fisher job," he growls in an undertone as he grabs his suitcase and heads for his bedroom, flipping on the TV as he passes to fill the quiet void around him with mindless chatter. He tosses his suitcase onto the bed, systematically pulling out piece by piece and deciding its fate – laundry, drawer or closet. Arthur pauses as a piece is pulled and the ivory handled gun comes into view. He slumps down onto the bed as his fingers extract the smooth weapon from it's resting place; his hand holding it firmly as he starts to get a feel for use.

_'Ah very fetching darling,' _Arthur hears Eames voice in his head; his mind whisking him back for a few seconds into the small shop where he happened upon the weapon in the first place. The shop owner had mentioned the weapon had a dark history but he didn't want to hear it – his own life already containing more than he had wanted.

But as he carefully places the gun back into it's holder, his mind now starts to ponder his dark family history and his stomach tightens.

_'My beloved Arthur,' _his mind starts to recall the letter he had found from his mother hidden amidst the contents of the box that Ean had taken. _'This won't be easy to hear but I must tell you. It's about who you really are.'_

"I'm not a gangster!" Arthur shouts as his fist flies to the right, sending the nearly empty suitcase careening toward the edge of the bed before toppling over and landing with a loud thud. "I'm not…I'm better than…" his voice dies out as he pictures himself as a small boy left at Garth's for the first time, hearing his mother's warm voice as she promises she'll come back and she'll always love him.

_'Your father and I love you very much and I hate that we've kept this from you but it's for your own protection. If you are reading this by yourself then that means both your father and I are dead and I'm truly sorry. My son everything we have done has been because we love you so very much and that means keeping some details about who we really are secret.' _

"Yeah my protection…" Arthur grumbles as he gets up off the bed and starts to angrily pull at the small buttons keeping his dress shirt attached to his frame. "Damn it…undo!" He curses before his fingers tire and he gives up. Arthur heads back into his kitchen, leaving the suitcase half jumbled on the floor. He pulls the door to his fridge and can only groan at the lack of contents, the fridge usually being emptied just before he leaves for a job so that he doesn't come home to an apartment full of stinking food.

"I need a drink," he opts for alcohol instead, turning himself around to get a small glass and then reaching for the half drunk bottle of fine scotch. The first gulp of the golden liquid slightly burns the insides of his empty stomach but he doesn't care, his mind too agitated with family issues.

He slowly wanders over to his desk, turns on his laptop and stares absently at the screen.

_'Let it go mate…' _he hears Eames warning tone playing in his mind just as his fingers are about to start a search. He pauses as he thinks about what else he might find. _It could only be bad…but you'll never know until you look…_both sides of the argument are pondered.

"I just want to look. Looking is harmless," Arthur justifies to himself as he starts a search on his family's ancestry. He first tries his father's side; knowing his mother's, if she indeed was related to the Cochini's would be a bit more complicated. Sure enough he's able to find Ean White. Ean had been married to a woman named Clara and they never had any children, or if they did, the name wasn't made public. He starts to search for Clara Wilson, using a hacking program he had picked up in one of his many travels. He slowly makes his way into another American database and finds his breath catching automatically as he reads a report on the death of Clara Wilson; a very grisly break and enter but later ruled an unsolved homicide.

"Damn you Ean!" Arthur curses as he continues to read before closing the window, remembering just how evil and twisted his uncle was before he earned his well deserved death. He closes the search on Clara Wilson, telling himself that there were no cousins to be found on his father's side and the legacy of his father's name would die with him as the last surviving male offspring of the White family.

"Cochini," Arthur's lips mutter as he starts a search into his mother's side of the family. His mind quickly whisks him back to the time when he was trapped in the chair, caught by his uncle and then delivered the fateful news that his mother was related to the mobster that ordered the hit on his parents; the very man that Ean White worked for. While the first search continues to build on his screen, Arthur's fingers rub the bridge of his nose before he looks away with a weary expression.

He downs the rest of his scotch before turning back to the screen with a small hiss. He looks at the little turning clock before he presses the 'esc' key, terminates the search and then pushes himself away from the laptop. _You need sleep, _Arthur's mind aptly reminds him as he finally gets up, turns off the TV and the lights and wanders into his bedroom. He knows he should put away the suitcase and the last bits of personal items inside, but instead he pulls his regular weapon, shoves it under his pillow and climbs under the covers, telling himself he'd wake up tomorrow and get back to a normal routine. At least…that was the plan.

XXXXXXXX

***present day***

"Is your head in the game?" Cobb demands of Eames, they being the last two to connect to the PASIV.

"Yes."

"I've never seen you this worried about…well anyone."

"It's just not like Arthur, that's all."

"He is a grown man…"

"And I know he's perfectly capable of looking after himself…"

"Goo…"

"Unless he does something stupid."

"Eames," Cobb groans. "I need you on this one. I need to know your head is in the game before we go under."

"It is…I am. It's just…"

"Okay tha…"

"I'm good," Eames interjects in haste. "I'm sure when we're done, I'll call and hear his merry old voice on the end and everything will be right as rain."

"After you then," Cobb nods.

Eames slowly lies down on the provided cot and rolls up his sleeve. He tries to order his brain to concentrate and focus on the task at hand – extracting energy supplies from one of the biggest providers in the Gulf Coast. But as he hears his name called out in that frantic but broken tone his panic courses. _If it really is nothing I'm blaming Arthur for mental anxiety. _

XXXXXXXX

***two weeks earlier***

For the past week, Arthur had gone about his daily routine like clockwork. Waking up to the morning headlines, making himself some strong coffee, going for a walk in the local marketplace and then coming home and staring at his laptop sitting solitary atop the small desk in his living room. He'd stare at it, almost daring himself to delve a little further into his family's sordid history. But for one week, he'd been able to hold himself back. Today he'd give in and that would be his undoing.

"Ah damn I have a right to know," Arthur justifies with a low growl as he starts into the search of his mother's family. He didn't need to hack into a special data base to find out about Mario Cochini as the newspapers were more than willing to comment on anything the flamboyant and devious mobster did in public. But most of it was superficial musings about parties, local business appearances and some charity events. It's not until he opens the FBI's database that he starts to uncover the real truth about the monster behind the mob and his real arrest warrants.

He comes across the official report about his parent's death, his throat seizing, unable to even utter a small curse as he looks at the date of the report. Someone knew…all those years someone knew the truth behind their death. But all that was fed to the public was a few details behind a horrific car accident – not their bodies were found, each adorned with a bullet to the head.

"Damn you Ean," Arthur curses as he looks at the list of suspected murderers, Ean White's name at the top of the list. But Ean had managed to evade authorities. How? Arthur looks further, telling himself that someone had to have been working on the inside, someone who had the real report but tricked authorities into going after someone else. Sure enough he finds another report, one not made public, but one that stated Rick Rhyder had been arrested for their deaths. Only when they went to serve the arrest warrant he died in a shootout. Case closed. End of story.

"Not end of story…who's the insider…" Arthur's voice growls as he tries to find the name behind the entry – the ID given only as Badge #17375. "Who are you 17375…" Arthur mulls as he starts to dig a bit further. He looks at the time, knowing he can only hack into the federal data bases for a specific time period and then get out before being noticed. Just before he's about to end the session, his warm chocolate eyes widen with horror.

"Oh…my god…" he whispers just as the clock starts to scream as it nears the final seconds of its countdown. Arthur's fingers fumble for the mouse, pressing 'exit' just as the number 2 appears on the screen. Two seconds and he would have been noticed and then within minutes possibly a knock on the door and an escort to the nearest police station.

He leans back in his chair, his hands rubbing his face as he recalls the last bit of information he had looked at.

'Susan White nee Cochini,' his mother and then….

"This…this can't be," Arthur mutters as he gets up from the chair and wanders into the kitchen, his apartment starting to show signs of his mental distraction – it not being the epitome of anal cleanness that would normally be seen. He would openly admit that the obsession with finding out his family's past was taking its toll on his everyday life but he didn't care at the moment. His quest for the truth was superseding everything else.

Knowing he can't log back in for the rest of the day, Arthur takes the tormented information with him as he tries to do a bit of cleanup. But his mind races to know the rest of what he had found, so he heads outside to get some fresh air and keep himself occupied for the rest of the day. On his walk he contemplates calling Eames as Eames had told him to, but knows he'll get a verbal scolding and drops the issue.

A few days later, Arthur sits before his laptop cursing himself for digging as deep as he had. He gives the laptop a shove, the innocent object falling off the table and clattering to the floor as Arthur storms toward his closet, grabs his leather jacket and then hurries for the front door.

"Ano…thur…" Arthur demands of the bar tender a few hours later, his speech starting to slow and slur as the inebriation starts to take its toll on him.

"Think you've have enough."

"Arthur. What the hell is going on?" Cobb asks as he nears, telling the bartender he's had enough and it'll only be a shot of strong coffee.

"Leave me alone Cobb!" Arthur hisses as he tries to push past Cobb's supportive grasp and get to the front door. But all he does is stumble toward an empty chair, Cobb quickly grabbing him before he can do further damage to himself and the furniture.

"What's going on Arthur?" Cobb demands as he helps him outside and then toward his car to take him home.

"Family…business."

"Family? You don't have…"

"FAMILY!" Arthur yells back. "It's none of your damn business."

Cobb merely nods as he slowly drives through the quiet dark streets of the Paris suburb Arthur lives; helping him up into his apartment, into bed and then looking around at his somewhat messy apartment. But he simply comments that something isn't quiet right and goes on his way; promising to call back in a few days, which is what he does.

"I uh…Cobb last time…" Arthur's voice groans as his brow furrows. "I was drunk and…and I'm sorry if I did something stupid."

_"No need to apologize my friend. We all have bad days. But I' m calling with news about a job."_

"I can't this time. Long story but I am right in the middle of something that I need to take care of."

_"More family stuff? Arthur…you don't have any immediate family left. What's going on?"_

"Cobb…this is…let's just say it's personal and nothing to worry about. Please just keep this to us and don't tell Eames."

_"Eames?"_

"Longer story," Arthur groans. "I'll catch you next time."

Arthur hangs up and looks at the email message on the screen.

_'This is a big surprise but sure would love to meet face to face. When can you come to New York?'_

"Yeah well this is a big surprise for me too," Arthur groans just as his phone buzzes to life. He looks at Eames name on the display and frowns. _He'll understand when I get back and tell him the news…tell him before you go. No…he'll tell me not to go. Maybe for good reason. I can handle my own family affairs on my own. Are you sure? Yes!_

_'Do I really need to come find you with my handcuffs darling?' _

Arthur's face softens into a small smirk as he reads Eames cheeky text but opts not to reply. "Not time Eames…this is something I need to do alone," he states firmly as he looks down at the file on his right – the file of personal information he had been gathering on his family's history and who else was waiting to be found. But the person he found, wasn't who he had expected to find; the news at first sending him into a downward alcoholic spiral, anger welling inside, forcing him to climb back out of his own mental hell, get sober and formulate his next move. He remembers lying awake all night after he had sent the initial email to connect, wondering if his literally out of the blue request would be honored. A day had passed and he had given up hope, until one night coming home late after a party, to an answer.

_'This is a big surprise but sure would love to meet face to face. When can you come to New York?'_

He replies back that he can leave in the morning; pressing send and then immediately booking a flight before leaving the desk and going to pack a small carry-on bag. The flight to New York was spent wondering exactly what he could expect. A friendly welcome? A surprised welcome? An angry welcome? A combination of all three? In a few hours he'd know and once again his life's course would alter.

XXXXXXXX

***present day***

"Eames!" Cobb's voice hisses into Eames ear piece as Eames quickly looks at his reflection. "Focus!"

"Sorry love…now where were we?" Eames voice shifts back into his female form to continue, his mind cursing the fact that he was distracted by Arthur's absence. But things quickly go from bad to worse, the shootout happening a bit sooner than expected, Cobb and Eames the first to be shot; ending their duration in the dreamscape.

"What the hell was that?" Cobb growls as he watches Eames rip the PASIV tube off and head for his suit jacket. "Eames!"

"You got what you needed," Eames snaps as he pulls on his suit jacket and heads for the exit door to the run down warehouse, the rest of Cobb's extraction team slowly coming back to reality.

"Barely!" Cobb huffs as he rubs his face. "What is going on? Where…where are you going? Eames!"

"Paris."

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so yes wanted a bit more mystery around who Arthur has found next as I would love your thoughts. Eames of course doesn't know where Arthur is – yet. What does he find in Arthur's apartment in Paris? And what is really going on? Would love your thoughts as always so please do review and thanks so much!


	19. Digging to Deep

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 19 – Digging too Deep**

**A/N: Really want to extend a special thanks to Kiyoshi Takeshi Raiden, Lauraa-x, Shoyzz, SilverKaiden, Elohim Aelf, Sem92 and Nadster 23 for being so diligent in your reviews of each chap and offering your amazing reviews and support for this story. So much appreciated! Hope you like this update just as much!**

* * *

***one week earlier***

_'This is a big surprise but sure would love to meet face to face. When can you come to New York?'_

The pilot makes the final landing announcement as they approach JFK International Airport, Arthur's stomach instantly tightening. Not from the small bits of turbulence teasing the outer shell of the jumbo jet, but from the person he was about to meet face to face. His mind thinks back to the second search he did, one more in-depth on his mother's side only to reveal a very shocking revelation, a relative on his mother's side; one he could not ignore or forget.

He ponders further what the first reaction would be; his mind recalling is own reaction – angry hurt feelings toward his death mother for not telling him anything; angry feelings toward someone he's never met and then angry feelings at himself for giving in to such heated anger in the first place. Eames had warned him that he might not like what he finds if he digs too deep and at the time had only himself to blame for wanting to crawl down to the bottom of the booze bottle in the privacy of his own home. But he had pushed back another wave of betrayal, told himself that he would never move past it in his own mind if he didn't at least try to make contact. _Why not rock the boat…my life's been turned upside down…time to do some of my own shaking, _he had falsely reasoned.

Arthur's fingers slightly grip the right side of the cramped airplane seat as the plane's wheels finally touch down on the slightly slippery runway; his frame sagging back into the seat as it finally makes its way toward the reception hangar. The wait for the doors to open and the call for them to finally disembark seems to take forever. But when it's finally his turn to grab his small suitcase from the overhead compartment and head for the front door exit, Arthur momentarily seizes.

_'Should have just let it go mate…' _he hears Eames voice giving him a silent scolding; however, a slight cough from the person beside him jolts him back to reality and he starts to move. He offers them a tight smile before he grabs his suitcase and slowly heads for the exit door, his heart rate picking up with each step he takes.

_Damn what am I doing here alone…_Arthur grumbles, not caring that Eames would say '_I told you so' _if he got into trouble. But he had made a promise with himself that he would meet and then…_just walk away? You know it won't be that easy, _his mind scolds as he heads for the escalator to go down. He mechanically meanders through the crowd, finally breaching the outside and letting the cool night air offer some relief to his overheated frame. He looks around at a few people waiting for others, none making a move to identify themselves as the person he'd travelled half way around the world to see.

Until…

"Arthur?"

Arthur hears the uncertain male voice and turns and stops. He quickly takes note of the crisp attire, familiar dark eyes and obvious crease in his mouth when he smiles.

"Shane?"

"That's me," he replies with a warm smile as he approaches. "Wow…this is uh…kinda surreal," Shane remarks as he looks Arthur up and down.

"For me too," Arthur mentions with a nervous smile.

"Well…let's get you out of the rain," he slaps Arthur on the back before he gives him a brief hug and then pulls back with a questioning glance. "Where are you staying?"

"Just arrived."

"Ah thrill seeker, that's right up my alley. Come on, my car's over here."

Not knowing what to expect, Arthur picks up his suitcase and follows after Shane, his stomach still tight but his mind starting to settle the rest of his nervous frame. He was here now, no turning back. Yet.

"Now that…is a very sweet ride," Arthur comments about the midnight black, pristine Porsche 911 they come to stop beside. "What do you do for work?" Arthur asks lightly.

"Sales," Shane grins as he takes Arthur's suitcase and stows it in the trunk before he gestures for him to get in. "My other vehicle's a bit more practical for doing stuff in."

"Yeah and what's that? A Ferrari?" Arthur smiles as he easily slides into the black leather passenger seat; his senses delighting in the smell of the rich fabric.

"Hummer. Original. Not these new wannabe's," Shane looks over with a grin as Arthur looks at him in surprise. "Hungry?"

"Starved. I hate airplane food," he replies in truth as they head into the heart of Manhattan.

"Pick your poison," Shane says as he gestures to a few restaurants.

"Could go for a well aged steak and a fine glass of scotch."

"We are related!" Shane exclaims as he turns the corner and then slowly pulls up to a valet reception area and stops his car. "Not a scratch," he states with an edge of anger in his tone.

"Yes Sir," the valet replies as he waits for Arthur and Shane to exit and then directs the luxury sports car toward a special parking stall. Arthur mutely follows after Shane as they are shown to a private booth near the back of the restaurant, up on a small balcony with only two other tables – neither of them occupied.

"Is Cindy working tonight?"

"Yes Sir, I'll send her up right away."

"Perfect," Shane replies with a bright smile before he turns to Arthur with an inspecting stare. "We smile alike."

"We do," Arthur is quick to admit. But before he can ask a question, their very attractive waitress for the evening approaches.

"Hello beautiful," Shane greets the buxom blond, tastefully yet sexily clad in a black cocktail dress.

"Hello yourself," she smartly retorts. "Who's with you tonight?"

"Well Cindy tonight…tonight is a very special night. I want a bottle of your finest single malt and two glasses, no ice. It's a shame to water down the good stuff."

"Very much agree," Arthur adds with a warm smile.

"And why is tonight special?"

"Tonight is all about family. This…is my _half brother_ Arthur, come all the way from Paris to…"

_Half brother…_the title was still so surreal to him. His mind quickly thinks back to the information he had found in the FBI database. His mother had had a son with another man; a known mob associate of her brother Mario Cochini. When she told him she wanted a different life, he sued for custody and took his son, telling her he'd be well taken care of but if she ever came to see him, she'd be killed along with her son. So she left Shane in the clutches of his father and much to her emotional regret, married Arthur's father Derek White and had him.

The real history of his half brother, however, wasn't stated in a letter, it was locked away in a police file that only one person had access to; an insider he had yet to discover the identity of. At first he didn't believe it. He had a brother. Had he never thought to dig, he never would have learned the truth; his mother had another son, one five years older than him. _A brother…a half brother. I have a brother…_

"Well enjoy the special reunion. I'll be right back with those drinks," Cindy's soft voice quickly pulls Arthur back to reality, forcing him to put on a warm smile and watch as she leaves before he turns back to Shane who has an even bigger smile on his face.

"Something isn't she?"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"No. I'm…in between right now," Shane answers in truth. "But I don't mind a night in the company of beauty."

"Well she is that."

"So we both do sales," Shane remarks as he leans back in the dark leather booth, once again inspecting Arthur with a careful eye. "What's Paris like this time of year?"

"Wonderful actually."

The rest of the evening progresses as Arthur had expected; his false employment story of an international sales rep holding but the conversation mostly revolving around their personal likes and dislikes. Arthur had told him his parents were killed in a car accident; holding back details in case Shane hadn't been tainted by the Cochini family bug. Shane, in return had told him that his father and adoptive mother were living in upstate New York and he only saw them on special "family" occasions; Arthur not sure if that was the whole truth or to just take it at face value. Mario Cochini had passed his illegal empire to Dario Franchetti after his untimely death and after that he didn't dig into the files enough to learn. But he was sure it couldn't be Shane's father as it was hard to oversee an illegal drug and arms operation from afar. Still he told himself to remain cautious; this could all be a rouse and Dario could be down in Manhattan pulling the strings. He inwardly chuckles as he thinks about one of Eames warning scolding's. _Oh I'm sure he'd have a few choice words for this situation – glad he's not here or he just might take me over his knee._

"Married?" Shane's voice breaks into Arthur's thoughts as they slowly head for the door; a few hours having passed with both of them enjoying the expensive meal.

"No time. Travel a lot and figured it wouldn't be fair. You?"

"Much the same."

"Where…are we going?" Arthur asks in wonder as they head toward a more residential part of town.

"Home. Let me extend to you some family hospitality. My home is modest but has most of today's creature comforts," Shane lightly brags as they pull up to the driveway of a very fancy home.

"Sales must be going very well."

"Oh…it is," Shane replies with a nod as the large iron gates close behind them and the black luxury car slowly heads toward a four car garage. Arthur's eyes slightly widen as he takes stock of the three other luxury vehicles in other bays, all black, all pristine, all…enviable. Everything in Shane's life so far was enviable and that was the real snare; one he'd better watch out for. "Come on, I'll show you around."

Once again, Arthur can only fall into silent step behind his half brother as he heads out of the luxury garage and enters an equally luxury laden interior space. _Sales must be doing well…_his mind offers in sarcasm. Once again he hears Eames stating the obvious, _don't be so daft darling…you know who pays for all this. _Mob money. Of that he was certain. _Just play it cool. Meet…greet…and leave with your life still in tact._

"Very nice," Arthur muses as he's led to the well furnished guest bedroom. "Was nervous when I first sent the email," he mentions, forcing Shane to turn around and nod in agreement. "I'm glad you accepted though."

"Well it took me by complete surprise and at first I thought it was a joke by a friend. But when you mentioned our mother's name and then showed me an excerpt of that letter I knew it was for real. Course if this had been a joke well you'd be staying somewhere else."

"Jail?" Arthur's lips twist into a soft smirk.

"Ha, that'd be the better of the two alternatives," Shane winks; his sly smile forcing the short hairs on the back of Arthur's neck to bristle. "So what are your plans for tomorrow?"

"No plans. I just wanted to meet you and…and that's it. I didn't know what to expect when I came here. I'm down for…really for whatever. This place sure is nice though. I need your clients," Arthur smiles as he slowly turns into his room. But he's quickly stopped by Shane's firm grasp on his forearm.

"Careful what you wish for little brother because anything is available…for a price," Shane whispers before he pulls back. "Sleep well. See you in the morning."

Arthur offers Shane a tense smile before he closes the door and stands nervously looking at the unfamiliar room before him. _At least I won't wake up in handcuffs, _he inwardly smirks as he finally removes himself from place, heads for the bed, placing his suitcase on top and then starting to slowly pull a few things out. Of course he didn't know Shane, so dropping his guard wasn't an option; however, Shane, much like himself, also chose to not talk to openly about _real _work, signaling to Arthur that he indeed was entrenched in the mob lifestyle.

He takes his small toiletry bag and heads into the bathroom, staring like a child in a very expensive candy store at the marble touches, Jacuzzi style bathtub, shower big enough for…at least three and cherry wood to finish it off. "Wow," he can only whisper as he pushes past the momentary distraction and gets ready for bed. As per his habitual routine, Arthur locks the door and places a gun under his pillow and then reaches for the light. _Eames would probably pick the lock just to gloat he could, _Arthur once again inwardly smirks as he finally sinks into darkness after the long day's events.

The following morning, Arthur awakens early to the temping aroma of freshly brewed coffee seeping under the door crack, brining an instant smile to his face as he stretches and then slowly gets out of bed. Not wanting to see too casual around the new person in his life just yet, Arthur pulls on his black pants and dress shirt and goes in search of the caffeinated pick me up.

"Morning."

"Morning. Want some?"

"Would love it," Arthur takes the mug of steaming stimulant, adds the cream and sugar and then turns and starts to inspect the rest of the luxury surroundings his trained brain failed to process the night before. "Very…nice," Arthur muses as he turns to see Shane watching hi m intently. "My place is humble compared to this."

"Humble beginnings right?"

"Not sure I'd get to having the garage," Arthur quips as he takes another sip and then heads for the sliding glass doors that lead onto the smartly decorated balcony.

"Never say never."

"I kno…"

"Mrs. Mable is my wonderful chef," Shane introduces a very well kept older Lady as she enters the immaculate kitchen. "I'd sign up for cooking lessons but I'm afraid I've become too dependant on his fine woman to keep me in fine form."

"Always my pleasure Mr. Franchetti."

"Chef too?" Arthur asks in a low tone as he and Shane head out onto the balcony. "Who else do you have on staff?"

"Masseuse, housekeeper, mechanic and personal trainer," he replies as he takes a sip of his coffee. "You?"

"Mailman?" Arthur replies weakly, earning a small chuckle from Shane. "That's great though."

"Could have been yours…with a different father."

Arthur's back slightly stiffens as he returns a tense smile and small nod. _Careful darling you're treading dangerous ground here, _he hears Eames warning once more and inwardly cringes.

"Possibly," Arthur is forced to agree.

"Well, after breakfast, we'll just…hang and get to know each other a little better."

"Sounds good."

"Always wanted a little brother," Shane slaps Arthur on the back before he pulls him in a bit closer. "I have been looking for someone I can trust for awhile now. Who better than family?" Shane's voice dies out as they head back inside. The conversation during breakfast with Mrs. Mable Farnsworth hovering around is kept to mostly touristy stuff, however, Shane does let slip the occasional verbal faux pas but thinks nothing of it.

"Ready to see my world?" Shane asks as they head into the garage and he dangles the key before Arthur's slightly widening eyes; a very cunning trap from a very skilled hunter. "Want to become a part of it?"

Looking back he should have said no right there; thanked Shane for his expensive hospitality and headed back to Paris where his mundane, but _safe_ life was waiting. But Arthur merely nods, takes the keys with a wide smile; both getting into the luxury sports car and heading into the city. The first day together has Shane taking Arthur to some very expensive restaurants, a fancy nightclub and then dancing with some very fine women at a premiere club until the wee hours of the morning.

It was the next day that things got a bit tenser, as Shane has to make a "pit stop" on the way to a fancy lunch date. The pit stop turns out to be visiting a man who owes his father some money; the bag he had kept for himself as he felt he was shortchanged by the short fused mobster. Arthur could only watch in uncomfortable silence as Shane ordered his "acquaintance" to break both the man's kneecaps, take the money and then torch the small house he had been holed up in. If it had been requiring further proof of what paid for his half brother's opulent lifestyle, he was just handed more than what he needed on a silver platter.

"Alright business is over, now it's time for pleasure. Hungry?" Shane asks with a very casual attitude as the sports car peels away from the curb and heads for SoHo. Despite offering a weak nod, Arthur's mind spins with finding a viable excuse to head back home tomorrow. However, Shane wasn't going to make it easy. The rest of the afternoon is spent in the company of two very attractive women, one for each of them; wining, dining and just enjoying the good life. After that, Shane had ordered a limo to take the four of them to another exclusive club, once again flashing some illegally obtained green to the overly muscled bouncer and finishing the night dancing. Finally about two AM they head back to the restaurant where the Porsche is waiting; Arthur taking the keys, as he wasn't quite as drunk as Shane.

"Gimme your wallet pretty boy!" They are suddenly surprised by a menacing face wielding a knife.

"Sure," Arthur nods meekly as he fakes a move to go for his wallet. However, his fighting skills more than impress Shane and as they step over the unconscious man, both in tact, get into the Porsche and head for home, Shane finally makes Arthur the offer he suspected was coming.

"Partners?" Arthur asks weakly as they linger in the black leather seats in the quiet garage. "Shane…I'll admit…your lifestyle is pretty enviable and I have…well nothing that could compare but…"

"Oh you mean to tell me your "sales" job is legit?" Shane looks over with arched brows as Arthur feels a small lump form in his throat. "I think I've shown you what you could be enjoying. One call to my father…and you're in."

"Just like that?"

"Just…like that. Course once you're in…you're all the way in. But think of it…an endless supply of more money than you could ever make doing…well whatever it is you do now. You fly business class now, soon it could be private all the way. Women, cars…anything. You just need to help grow the family business by looking after its interests and you'll be set for life. It will be perfect for both of us."

"And if I say no?"

"Don't. But if you do…that's your choice. However, I know who you are. Something goes wrong and you know who I'm coming after."

"If I say no and leave trust me you won't ever hear from me again. My job might not pay as well but I know enough to keep my head below the same radar as you and avoid the same authorities as you. There's a reason I don't talk openly about my clients either. Trust me, I'm the last person you'd have to finger."

"Ah then we do have an understanding," Shane grins. "Perfect. Let's get some sleep. Cindy wants to see us again tomorrow and she asked for you to come specifically."

"Now her I liked," Arthur smiles as they head back inside the quiet mansion for the night. Arthur's mind, however, stays awake processing Shane's offer. It was tempting to a degree, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't. But then…_You're not them…_Eames voice argues back, his mind recalling a strained conversation with his absent friend before they parted ways. _You might have the same blood but you won't have the same future. _

"Damn you Eames…" Arthur grumbles as he rolls over onto his side; his mind recalling the night he met Frank and was also given an offer he couldn't refuse. "I hate when you're right." His mind had made up that he would tell Shane, thanks but no thanks, have one last lunch and then be on his way back home. Not soon enough. However, the following day would offer him a surprise; one he would later come to regret. Arthur slowly gets up and rubs his weary face and then gets out of bed. This morning, unlike the last, the air wasn't filled with the tempting caffeinated aroma so he wonders if perhaps Shane's overindulgence in alcohol finally got to him. Despite the wealth he was being cradled in, he wasn't about to give Shane's offer another moment's pause; he didn't want to live the life of a gangster or be affiliated with one, not wanting to die in a hail of bullets as so many of them have. _I'm not one of them…_his mind insists as he pulls on his robe and opens the bedroom door.

"That isn't good enough!"

Arthur pauses as he hears Shane's tone rise to that of sharp anger. _What's going on? Another unsatisfied customer? More broken kneecaps? _Arthur tells himself to just turn around and head back into his room to have a shower and get the day started. But he doesn't and fate can only smile at the wrong ill-conceived course the young man was about to walk.

"Well I don't care where you got that large sum of money, and it's none of your business how I found out! It's the end of the month and it's mine and I want it all. I don't give a damn about that place and if I had my way would toss all the runts onto the street and burn the damn place down. Now you tell…no you listen to me Garth…"

_Garth? _Arthur's senses instantly perk up. _Runts…place? Is that…the orphanage where I…what the hell is going on? That's the money I gave Garth! That's…mine…and if Shane…_

"I want that money, it's mine! I don't care who donated it. You're late on your payments! As of midnight tonight, the deed to that miserable place belongs to me. Now you pay up that money by tonight and you might live to see tomorrow!" Shane hisses before the phone slams down.

_This…this can't be…oh damn not good. _Arthur hurries back into his bedroom, locks the door and races for the bathroom, closing the door and turning on the water to pretend he was having a shower. _Damn this is bad…I have to help Garth but how? As long as Shane holds the deed…I can buy the place. I do that and….yeah that's what I'll do. Before tonight? I can't let Shane or one of his goons beat Garth like that. I can't! I gotta act fast. _Arthur turns on the shower taps to have an actual shower, his mind however, now racing at top speed to find a way to save Garth and the home he just donated to to help keep open with his large donation; the money Garth was now after. _The money…if Garth tells Shane…oh damn this is bad! _Arthur hurries to finish his shower and change, wanting to get to the bank as soon as possible. However, how could he ditch Shane and help Garth without Shane catching on and catching him? _Should I call Eames for interference?_

"Morning little brother," Shane greets Arthur about half hour later. "Coffee?"

"Sure." Despite his gnawing agitation, Arthur's lips can't help but slightly curl upward at the use of the affectionate familial title. He nods and then eases himself down into one of the nearby tall bar stools.

"I think I'll be heading back to Paris tonight."

"Very well." End of discussion. "But you have to have lunch first right?" Shane grins as he hands Arthur his cup.

"Cindy was very hard to say no to," Arthur smiles as he takes a sip of the steaming liquid. Thankfully for him, Shane doesn't press the issue and Arthur fills the perceived void with mindless chatter about Cindy and what she was all about. In reality the longer he sits before Shane, the faster he's convinced he wants to go home – back to his normal life. Of course he knows he's not leaving without helping Garth but he wasn't about let on to Shane that that was his plan – for he knows the moment he does that, his life is over.

"Wish you could have stayed longer, you know just to hang."

"Well I only booked the ticket for a few days because I wasn't sure what to expect," Arthur admits in truth as they head for the garage. The entire morning, Arthur had spent trying to find some excuse to get away from Shane for even a half hour, get to the bank – any branch of his bank and purchase the deed to Garth's building; get it out of Garth's name and into his before it was given unwillingly to Shane. But each time that window was closed and he was stuck.

_Lunch! Can I feign sickness at lunch? Maybe call Garth first, ask him to take the deed to the bank and transfer it into my name? I'll call my bank and give them the heads up and…and yes this could work. _So at the first opportunity, Arthur politely excuses himself and heads for the men's room, quickly pulling his phone and firstly calling the bank. As suspected, with his new found wealth, sitting in the bank collecting interest, purchasing the piece of property wouldn't be an issue. It was the transfer that followed that required a bit of legwork.

"Garth? It's Arthur."

_"Arthur? So good to…"_

"I don't have a lot of time," Arthur states with a soft hiss. "I know you have dealings with Shane Franchetti. It doesn't matter how I know I just do. Listen…"

_"No. I don't want you involved…"_

"I am going to help. I'm at La Verda Trata. Look, I have called my bank and offered to buy your building but I need you not go to that meeting tonight. Don't give Shane any mo…" Arthur pauses just as he turns around to see Shane looking at him with a cross expression; flanked on either side by two equally angry looking men, all three of them armed.

"Rocco…relieve my brother of his phone right now."

"Shane, you don't understand," Arthur tries as Shane nears him with an angry scowl; the call instantly ended. Before he can offer another word, a firm blow to the stomach forces his body to sag to his knees. Rough hands fumble into his pockets, his mind thankful that he had placed the token in a safer place; but his wallet, phone and gun are quickly taken away; Arthur himself hauled up by the two angry bodyguards.

"Sales…right," Shane growls as he waves Arthur's gun in the air before his face.

"Shane…please let me explain."

"That time is over. Bring him."

"No! Wait!"

Arthur's body struggles in the firm grasp of the two men holding him prisoner and dragging him behind their evil boss, his own half brother. "Where…are you taking me?"

"To hell, little brother. Should have stayed away. Double crossing me was a very bad move. Downstairs into the dungeon."

"NO!" Arthur growls, frantically looking around for anyone to come to his aid. "Somebody! Stop him!"

"These people are paid well and loyal to me. They know their betrayal means DEATH!"

"I can…explain…" Arthur grunts as the elevator doors open and his heart rate skyrockets. His dark eyes widen as he looks at the literal dungeon before him; the two men directed to drag him into a nearby cell. But just before he's about to enter the room, his phone rings.

"Who the hell is Eames?" Shane snickers as he answers.

_"Arthur?"_

"Ea…mes!" Arthur shouts before sustaining another solid blow to the gut at the same time the phone call is ended.

"Persistent fellow," Shane groans as he prepares to send a text. "Well I think he bought that," his voice drops to a low mocking tone as he tosses the phone onto the floor and crushes it with his heel. Shane slowly walks up to the bars before him and stares into the dimly lit prison at the angry dark gaze before him; a slow smile spreading across his face. "And that buys me…a bit more time with you as well."

Shane gestures to the two men on either side of him to leave; their job of restraining their prisoner taken care of; Arthur's frame secured to the cold stone wall by two iron shackles. "You know…I did warn this would happen. Why didn't you just listen? Things could have been perfect…for both of us."

"Please Shane…let me explain," Arthur begs.

XXXXXXXX

***present day***

"Arthur open the bloody door or I'll huff and puff…you know the rest," Eames states firmly as he finishes knocking and then pulls out a tool to pick the lock. "Hope you're descent," he calls out as he pushes the door open. "Arthur?" Eames calls out into the silence before him. "Playing hide and seek eh? When I find you I might just…take you over my knee." He tries once more as he pulls his gun. "Alright, let's try this. If you jump out and I shoot….you…damn darling where's the housekeeper?" He frowns as he looks at the rather untidy, un-Arthur-like surroundings. He quickly checks all the rooms before heading back into the kitchen and cursing when he finds only a few offerings of food containers but more alcohol bottles than anything.

"What the…." Eames voice trails off as he reaches Arthur's small workstation and pauses, looking at a small yellow tab sticking out from under the laptop. "Sorry darling but I need to see what you're up to." He looks at the notes and as suspected, Arthur had been digging into his past. But the last page makes his eyes slightly widen.

"Oh bugger…a brother? Arthur has a half brother?" Eames lips tighten as he reads the next paragraph down. "Known…mafia connections…Cochini."

Eames pulls out another paper and can only grit his teeth as he quickly scans for the date Arthur left for New York. "Bloody hell, he's been there a week," Eames curses as he bolts for the door; his mind only wanting to get to the hotel, get his suitcase and get on the next plane to the eastern United States.

"You just better be alive when I get there."

* * *

**A/N:** Uh oh…Arthur's in trouble…Eames is heading for trouble but what will this showdown be like? Maybe not the same as the others? Hmmm would love your thoughts so please do review before you go and thanks!


	20. Family Ties

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 20 – Family Ties**

* * *

Eames mind replays the findings in Arthur's apartment as he sits in the back of the cab on the way to Paris International; his flight to New York already booked thanks to an online travel app. _Damn it Arthur why didn't you call…_Eames mind mutters as he recalls the very un-Arthur like state of his usually pristine apartment. His lips curl into a soft smirk as he recalls the first time him and Cobb had stopped by Arthur's apartment after a dicey job ended early in Paris.

_'So this is the dragons lair eh?' Eames had mused as they entered the immaculate dwelling. 'Very…clinical.'_

_'Clinical? It's called being orderly,' Arthur had fired back; Eames always smirking at the ease in which he was able to ruffle the normally placid point man's feathers. _

_'Anal.'_

_'Clean,' Arthur glared as Cobb only watched in amusement, muttering 'children' under his breath before he went in search of the liquor cabinet. _

_'What would happen if I were to…'_

_'Leave that where it is. Okay what can I do for you Mr. Eames?' Arthur had asked in exasperation._

_'First off you can undo the tie pull the stick out of…well you know where,' Eames had grinned. 'I promise I'm housebroken.'_

_'Just because I choose not to live in squalor doesn't mean you have to come in here and mock the other side.'_

He had made another comment about the orderliness, how it was almost borderline obsessive; Arthur of course arguing back there was nothing wrong with being obsessive about perfection. Cobb then interjected with a toast to a close call but a job well done and the tension was broken. _Always been orderly…_Eames mind ponders as the cab comes to a stop and he gets out, grabs his small carry-on bag and heads for the international departures section of the large bustling airport. It worried him that Arthur had gotten so lax in his housekeeping duties; even more was the number of empty alcohol bottles that outnumbered regular food or drink offerings. _Why didn't you just call, _Eames inwardly groans as he rubs the bridge of his nose and advances in line. The question, is of course, rhetorical as he knows very well why Arthur didn't call – _he's too damn stubborn for his own good!_ He had once mentioned that asking for help was a sign of weakness; Eames arguing back that it was a sign of trust to ask for help from someone you trusted. _Maybe he doesn't trust me?_

That sobering thought accompanies Eames onto the plane, plaguing his mind as he settles in for the seven hour flight. As much as he wants to speed up time, he knows he can't and will only be forced to sit and ponder what fate Arthur might be facing. _Why the hell did he go alone? _As the flight finally starts, Eames pulls out the folder he had taken in haste from Arthur's apartment, wanting to read the notes in depth on the way to America. He had seen the email that Arthur had sent and then the one he had gotten but the only arrangements to meet were to be at the airport; Eames unable to find an address for Shane Franchetti. _What the hell were you thinking darling…this guy is the mob! _Another thought, however, crosses Eames mind. What if the odd static and noise he heard was from a club? Could Arthur, perhaps be having a good time with his half-brother and just didn't want to call back. _Maybe my gut feeling is wrong? _If that were the case then he'd feel downright silly for flying half way around the world to check up on a man that didn't want or need to be checked up on. _But what if I'm right and Arthur is in trouble?_

XXXXXXXX

"Shane…I need…" Arthur lightly gasps as Shane grabs a handful of dark hair and jerks his head upright; the dimly lit lighting casting an eerie shadow on his evil glare. "Ahhh…" Arthur gasps as Shane's fist connects once more with his jaw.

"It was simple really you…"

"Garth…he's my…friend," Arthur pants as his body sags against the cold stone wall; his entire frame wracked with throbbing pain. "That money…was from…me."

"I don't care," Shane lightly hisses. "I have a job to do and you're interference will only earn me a stern talking to from my father, who unlike yours isn't as understanding of failure or is very forgiving!"

"He won't…have to know," Arthur huffs as Shane pulls back with an angry scowl. "That place…I grew up there…Shane…"

"And you think because we got along so well right off the bat that I'd give in to some lame brotherly sentiment and just overlook the fact he owes me money!"

"Garth would…never…" Arthur's voice dies out into a weak gasp as his weary frame sustains another stiff blow to his vulnerable ribs; his restrained arms unable to pull down and stop the attack.

"He did!" Shane shouts, Arthur's frame trying to recoil but unable. "That money is mine! I don't care how he came by it, I want it and I want it all!"

"I'll…pay you," Arthur begs in a weak but firm tone.

"What?" Shane asks in haste.

"The money…I'll pay you. Just leave…Garth alone."

"Oh I'm sorry little brother. I can't do that. You see hurting people who defy me is one of the perks of my job. How could I deny myself that pleasure?"

"Please."

"No. Besides…you're in no position to help him, you can't even help yourself!"

"Give it…your best," Arthur growls back in defiance, forcing a somewhat startled eyebrow raise from his captor; his brother.

"Oh…I shall."

XXXXXXXX

"Who is 17375," Eames mutters as he looks at the file entry on the confidential notes that Arthur managed to unlock. He can just imagine the point man's utterly shocked expression at finding out his mother had kept such a shocking secret all those years as him having a half brother. _No wonder he started drinking…I would have also, _Eames inwardly groans as he looks at the handwritten notes that Arthur had made besides his birth mother's name. _Betrayed. Traitor. Lied to. _A curse words and then…_why? _The question that no doubt haunted his nights and forced him to take this action. _But why…why did you go alone?_

As the flight continues across the Atlantic, Eames mind continues to ponder the snippets that Arthur had given him about his tormented childhood and what it was like growing up without much hope or any real dreams in the place of abandonment as he had come to call it. Since Arthur's phone wasn't being answered and he didn't have an address for Shane, he'd start with Garth and then go from there. _Wonder if Arthur would be terribly pissed if I put out an APB on him? _Eames mind snickers as he pictures Arthur's horrified face when the police haul him away in handcuffs at his bidding.

He thinks about his own family, and while they certainly had their dysfunctional moments they were no where near the troubled clan that Arthur now finds himself familialily attached to. He can just hear Arthur's sharp tone in his mind berating himself for digging as deep as he had; uncovering the secrets he did and then ending up in hot water as he surmises he's already done. _Darling you're a magnet for trouble, _Eames silently groans as he looks out the window into the black of night.

"Wherever you are Arthur I hope you're at least getting the answers you want without…without too much trouble," Eames voice fades to a soft whisper as his worried sapphire gaze drops back down to the hand written letter atop the file on his lap; the letter from his mother. _'My beloved Arthur…'_

XXXXXXXX

"Well Arthur, I must leave you now," Shane grins as he slowly stands backs away from Arthur's throbbing frame. "I hope tonight isn't too uncomfortable for you."

"Leave…Garth…alone," Arthur lightly gasps, his mind racing to push past the pain and focus on something other than his helpless predicament.

"After that beating you still want to bargain for his miserable life?" Shane asks in utter shock. "No. Plain and simple. No. I am going to meet Garth, get my money and if I don't, one of us will be leaving via my limo and the other via a BODY BAG!"

"He's…a good…man," Arthur manages as he tries to keep himself upright; his slightly trembling legs begging for some relief from standing for so long on the cold stone without shoes.

"So am I," Shane grins before he turns and leaves the darkened cell, slamming the metal barred door shut, trapping Arthur inside his cruel cage. "Watch him. And if he causes too much of a fuss gag him!" Shane barks at Rocco before turning back and casting a sneer in Arthur's direction. "I'll be back later to take care of little brother. Just make sure he can't escape. Although…he'd have to be Houdini to get out of those shackles."

"Shane!" Arthur yells hoarsely, his burning lungs coughing from the cold, dry air as the thick wooden door slams shut, sealing him in the quiet tomb in captive misery. "You…have to stop him!"

"Shut up! That's my last warning!" Rocco snaps back as Arthur merely glares in contempt.

Despite being shackled in a painfully upright position, his arms held away from his body and the edge of the cuffs biting into his skin as he tries in vain to pull himself free; his mind races that Garth will meet his end because of his charitable deed. His throat slightly seizes as a small smattering of crimson sludge trickles down from his nose and is automatically darted at by the tip of his tongue; his stomach constricting at the coppery taste in his mouth. But he didn't care about his own outwardly physical appearance as he knows broken ribs and cuts and bruises could heal – Garth, however, couldn't come back from the dead. _His death…will be on my hands…Garth…oh god please help him…please…_

XXXXXXXX

_Can't this bloody thing fly any faster, _Eames grumbles as he looks at the twinkling lights of the vast eastern seaboard in the distance? Arthur had been in New York with his half brother for a week now and the only clue he had gotten as to his friend's absence was someone else answering the phone and his distant and broken cry for help being heard. Was it a genuine cry for help? Was the text that followed also fake? As much as he wants to give Arthur the benefit of the doubt, the notes that Arthur had made on the Franchetti clan was they weren't people to suffer lightly. While it was true in their present line of work, they too had to sometimes do things that would incur the wrath of the law; the mob took immense pleasure in the hurt, torture and death of those that dared cross them. Had Arthur dared to cross his brother? And for what reason? Surely he would have known going up against Shane Franchetti alone would be personal suicide. _Maybe he thought he could use his charm? _Eames slightly smirks as the lights of New York get brighter. But in an hour he hopes his fears will be laid to rest as he'd find Arthur and his half brother, in some fancy club or restaurant laughing at him worrying for nothing. _Oh Eames…really? Thanks for the worry but as you can see…I'm quite fine._

"Fine," Eames grumbles as the final approach overhead message is heard, signaling all to prepare for landing. Unlike Arthur's somewhat turbulent landing, Eames landing is smooth; it's his own inner agitation that fuels his jitters. As soon as he's able to exit the plane, he heads for the nearest cab, gets in and gives them the orphanage's address. He remembers Arthur telling him how much easier his stay in the orphanage would have been if he had had an older or even a younger sibling in there with him. _I wonder how he took the news in knowing his half brother was in the same city, living in luxury while he was forced to survive in emotional despair all those years._

As they near the corner that would take them to the final stop of the orphanage, Eames looks down at his watch and can only curse the late hour; as he knows he'll be waking someone up, possibly more than one. But he knows how much Garth cares for Arthur so he tells himself that it should be fine. However, as soon as the cab rounds the corner, that thought is rendered moot.

"Oh damn," Eames offers a whispered curse as he looks at the police car outside the orphanage and Doug standing and talking to two uniformed officers. Panic instantly surges with the thought that somehow he'd gotten there too late and Garth was dead. But why? "This is good mate, thanks," Eames mutters as he pays for his fare, collects his small suitcase and quickly exits, heading toward the front entrance at a brisk pace. He slows his pace as he nears, waiting for the two officers to finish with Doug and then head back to their cruiser before he makes his move.

"Doug?"

"Yeah…can I help you?" Doug looks at him in wonder; Eames of course last seeing the other orphanage caretaker when he was disguised as Tim Charland.

"I'm a friend of Garth's. Is he…what's going on?"

"Garth he uh…he's in the hospital. He was attacked tonight. Two late night fishermen were able to stop it before it went too far and he was killed but um…he's in bad shape. Was beaten pretty badly. I'm just heading there now. Sorry I didn't get your name?"

"Eames. I'm a friend of Arthur's also. That's how I know Garth. Mind if I join you?"

"Just let me tell Jane I'm leaving. You can leave your bag here if you'd like."

"Thanks," Eames replies in a low tone, as he follows numbly behind Doug. He drops his bag inside the front door and waits for Doug to take care of business before leaving the orphanage at the very late hour. _Garth was…beaten pretty badly…two fishermen…didn't see who it was…only saw two men and a limo…limo…damn it! Who else rides around in a limo at night, beating up good citizens. _Course he's assuming that Garth is clean. What if Garth did have dealings with the mob? Or maybe he decided to cross Shane? Was this Shane's handiwork? Does Arthur know? Was his frantic call for help because he dared to defy Shane? Would he be Shane's next victim?

"Ready?" Doug's voice breaks into Eames thoughts as he looks over with a nod and then hurries after him toward the back and into the dimly lit garage. The ride to the hospital is strained and often filled with bouts of silence; neither man having anything in common except the man they were on their way to see. But both were bonded by the same silent prayer – that of Garth Benson pulling through the night.

They reach the ER and Eames pulls back and lets Doug find out the information; the older man coming back with a rather grim expression.

"He's in and out of consciousness but um…but we can see him if we want. We just can't stay too long."

"Lead the way," Eames gestures with his hand toward the Emergency holding area. _I only need a few minutes…just to know if he knows where Arthur is…_Eames mind swirls over and over as they near the curtained off area, he lets Doug slip in first and have a few minutes before he comes back out with a heavy frown.

"Is he awake?"

"Barely. Damn…" Doug shakes his head as his eyes threaten to water. "He only ever wanted to help those boys," Doug laments as he looks down in misery. "He doesn't deserve this."

Eames gives him a small pat on the back before he chances to slip into the room. His lips offer an automatic gasp as he looks at Garth's appearance. His right eye was nearly swollen shut, nose and mouth busted, his right arm was in a sling and his left hand was bandaged. His chest was bandaged but Eames could still see ugly purple marks peeking out from under the edge of the white fabric.

"Bloody hell."

"At least…I'm alive," Garth croaks as he Eames hurries to lean in closer.

"I'm Eames a friend of Arthur's. Who did this? Was it Shane Franchetti?" Eames asks in haste, his tone low but direct. "I can help. You just tell me if it was Shane and where I can find him. Did Shane do this to you?" Eames asks once more, not realizing that he was now carefully being watched. Garth nods once more and Eames feels his own teeth grit. "Where is he?"

"Don't…know."

"Have you heard from Arthur?"

Eames heart instantly breaks as he watches Garth's one open eye instantly water. "Oh no. Where? Is he okay?"

"He tried…to warn me," Garth manages as his breathing starts to shallow.

"I have to find him. Do you know where he was last?" Eames presses, Garth gesturing for him to lean in closer.

"Vida…Ter…" Garth whispers as he looks up to see the third person in the room, Eames head snapping up at the same time.

"I'll be out in a minute," Eames states firmly.

"Take your time. I'm not that possessive about those doing _my job_ for me," she replies curtly.

"I'm a friend."

"Well _friend, _make sure you remember which roles we all play in this room."

"That depends," Eames stands up and looks at the attractive female cop with a small glare. "This man is a personal friend and was nearly beaten to death by one of your city's untouchables. What's your role? To arrest the man responsible or to take care of the one that got away?" Eames asks firmly.

"No one's above the law Mr…"

"We'll see," Eames notes sourly as he turns back to Garth. His hand rests on his shoulder as he gives it a warm squeeze. "Rest up. I'll be back as soon as I can." He turns to see the female cop's intense gaze still on him as he nears. "If Shane Franchetti wasn't untouchable, this meeting would never have taken place," he growls as he prepares to take his leave.

"Let the law handle it."

"Bloody good job you've done in handling it so far. Excuse me."

"You better not be thinking of doing something stupid," the female cop warns.

"Darling," he starts in a clipped voice as he slightly turns and looks at her with a determined gaze. "I don't know how things work in the neighbourhood you grew up in, but in mine, when a man does this to a friend, he's no longer untouchable."

And not letting her get another word in, Eames hurries past the curtain, out into the ER and up to Doug. "You stay with him. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Where are you going?" Doug asks in haste.

"To help a friend."

"Where did that man say he was going?" The female cop marches up to Doug and questions.

"He didn't," Doug shrugs as he politely excuses himself and heads back into Garth's room. The female cop hurries outside in search of Eames, getting on her radio as soon as she's back in her cruiser; signaling her partner that they could now have an even bigger problem.

Eames looks up the words that Garth had whispered, finally finding the restaurant 'La Vida Tere' that Arthur told Garth he as at before the call went dead. Garth had done as Arthur requested, and went to the back to get the deed changed over, leaving the money in the account where it belonged. Then he foolishly went to meet Shane – alone, wanting to show that he wasn't afraid of the cruel mobster's son, a man he called a petulant child to his face and reaped the merciless reward of.

He reaches the darkened restaurant, gets out and tells the cabbie he doesn't have to wait. Uttering a small curse as expected the front door is locked, forcing him to pull his gun and head around the back. He notices one man standing beside the back door and easily overpowers him, wrapping his arm around his neck and forcing him into an unconscious state.

Eames spies the black Porsche sitting solitary in the dark as he pulls his gun and heads for the back door. He pulls it open and carefully enters the quiet building. His heart rate starts to increase as he quietly makes his way through the unoccupied kitchen and into the main restaurant area. Not wanting to call out to Arthur, Eames starts to look around for his missing friend; his agitation growing stronger and stronger by the second.

Knowing that Shane wouldn't just leave his unattended sports car and a lone bodyguard in the cold overnight, he tells himself Arthur is here and to keep looking. _Giving up is not an option. _Eames heads toward a small hallway that takes him down past the bathrooms and then into the staff quarters. He carefully opens each closed door, the last one leading showing him a darkened stairwell. _Call for backup first! _His mind warns. _From who? The cop at the hospital who just stood by doing nothing?_ I can't trust anyone here. Besides if Shane was in a limo, the limo isn't here, Shane isn't here, Eames falsely reasons – not knowing that the moment the limo bearing his friends familial nemesis had pulled up outside and a collision course was already underway.

Eames quietly makes his way down the dark wooden stairs, feeling the air getting cooler and cooler as he goes further into the belly of hell. After seeing what Shane did to Garth, he can only hope and pray that Arthur hadn't suffered the same fate and he'd be able to rescue his friend and get the hell outta dodge before they were discovered – as taking on the mob singlehandedly was a death warrant in the making.

Eames nears the bottom of the stairs and stops before the closed wooden door. He readies his gun and then starts to open it. However, he doesn't have to wait too long before trouble finds him as a firm fist sails through the air toward him. Eames sidesteps the punch, throwing his full weight into his attacker. His elbow comes up, clipping Rocco in the chin and forcing his head to snap backward. A few seconds later, his fist, wrapped around the butt end of the gun smashes into Rocco's jaw; Eames body pushing him backward into the thick stone wall. A few breathless seconds later, Rocco's body falls limply to the ground.

Eames swiftly turns on his heel and rushes toward the cell Arthur's being held captive in; he pulls open the door and curses as Arthur's bowed head is slow to rise.

"Bloody hell darling," Eames mutters in an undertone as he shoves is gun into his shoulder holster and hurries to pick the locks and set Arthur free. He tries to push past the patches of semi-dried blood around Arthur's mouth and nose, the dark circle adorning his right eye, the rip in his dress shirt and the overall appearance of the attack. He was alive and nothing appeared to be broken – that was a bonus. However, appearances are also deceiving.

"This is becoming a habit now."

"Bout…damn…time," Arthur wheezes out a soft whisper.

"I see they left the joy of gagging you to me," Eames snickers as he pulls out his lock pick.

But fate would once again toss an unfavorable curveball in his direction, as the heavy wooden door opens and two large men rush in, Shane slowly walking in behind them; halting Eames actions as he's roughly pulled from the cell, the pin falling to the ground and Arthur struggling to get himself upright.

"Well well well…" Shane's low mocking voice is heard as Eames struggles in vain to free himself out of the clutches of his two captors. "And who might you be?"

* * *

**A/N:** muwhahaha *runs and hides* oh dear both our boys are trapped by the merciless mobster. Will anyone come to their rescue? What with they have to endure before any help arrives? Would love your thoughts so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	21. Tension Boils Over

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 21 – Tension Boils Over**

* * *

"I asked…you a question!" Shane growls as he offers another firm blow to Eames stomach.

"Shane!" Arthur snaps in anger. "Stop it!"

"Just who the hell are you?" Shane asks again, ignoring Arthur's angry demand.

"His fairy god-mother," Eames retorts in sarcasm as Shane merely glares at him in contempt.

"You're doing a hell of a job," Shane retorts in sarcasm.

"Depends on perspective mate. Who the hell are you?"

"A very bad man and one you don't want to cross," Shane replies matter-of-factly. "Trust me."

"Oh I've already seen evidence of your handiwork tonight."

"Garth," Shane smiles as he pulls away from Eames and slowly heads toward Arthur's captive and struggling frame. "Yes Garth learned the price of defiance. The hard way."

"What did you do to him?" Arthur demands with a slight hiss. "Garth wh..."

"I showed him who's really the boss and that cros…"

"WHAT?" Arthur yells before his lungs constrict from the dry cold air attacking him.

"Why don't you tell him fairy god-mother? Do something to benefit my little brother!" Shane directs his verbal snicker in Eames direction while keeping his dark gaze fixed firmly on his captive sibling. "TELL US!" He shouts as Eames delays. "Tell dearest Arthur here just how bad a man I really am. Tell him it's in the blood. I'm just like my father. Tell him how I made Garth feel the mistake of betrayal. TELL HIM!"

"Tell him what? How you beat to a bloody pulp an innocent man. Yes that's a tale worth sharing," Eames growls in sarcasm.

"Damn you Shane!"

"Oh you honestly believe he was INNOCENT?" Shane finishes with an angry yell as his hand seizes Arthur's throat and applies pressure. "Tell me little brother. Was he innocent? Are you? ARE YOU?"

"STOP IT!" Eames yells as Arthur glares at Shane for a few seconds before his lips start to gasp for air.

"How easy it would be little brother…to end it all right now for you."

"Sha…ne…st…op…."

"What the hell do you want with him?" Eames growls as he tries in vain to pull himself free.

"I want what's mine," Shane leans in closer as Arthur's lungs start to heavily gasp for air. "Dear Arthur here wanted to keep me from what's mine."

"Gar….th…h…e…can't….shan….e…bre…"

"STOP IT! You're killing him!"

"Oh I will yet do that yet fairy god-mother," Shane growls as he lets go of Arthur's neck. Arthur's lungs instantly cough as his head bows and his eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to hold back the black circles that had started to form due to the lack of oxygen. "I had warned him fair and square. Stay out of my business. Had he listened he'd have been in Paris by now oblivious to the fact that this is how the real world works!"

"No…no it doesn't," Arthur offers with a labored breath, drawing Shane's gaze back to him. "I offered to pay…that was my money…you took. Garth was…innocent."

"That was my money! I don't care how he got it or where from it was mine! I earned it!"

"No, it was his...I turned away…from the other guy…you warned," Arthur reminds Shane with a painful gasp. "Garth…Shane he practically raised me…I owed him…something."

"I told you I don't care. That block…it belongs to me. He was the last hold out and you know how much I admire defiance," Shane barks as he punches Arthur once more in the stomach, forcing the point man to utter an anguished cry.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Eames challenges as he tries in vain once more to pull free of his captors.

"Eames…no," Arthur warns as Shane looks sharply at Eames before he heads out of the cell.

"Ah...so this is Eames."

"At least your hearing works well," Eames snickers, earning an instant eye roll from Arthur.

"You're the guy who called earlier…disrupting all my fun. Don't look much like a fairy god-mother."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Is that so? Care to tell me how?"

"Tell your goons to stand down and I'll _show_ you some real magic," Eames replies smartly as Shane offers a nod and a grin, turning slightly to look at Arthur before he swiftly turns and offers a firm backhand to the left side of Eames face.

"Shane!" Arthur shouts hoarsely. "What…do you want? You got your money so…"

"See this is why I'm so pissed off. I didn't get my money. I beat that miserable Garth and he died without…"

"No," Arthur's voice dies in a tormented gasp. "What?"

"Garth didn't die. He told the cop that was waiting that it was you personally that did the nasty deed," Eames rushes in haste.

"You think he'll actually live long enough to make a positive ID?" Shane questions as he punches Eames in the stomach once more. "Or that the stupid cop will LISTEN?"

"Let…Eames go," Arthur begs firmly as Eames weary frame finally sags in the grasp of the two men holding him captive.

"Sorry can't do that. Bring him."

"Shane!" Arthur grumbles as his body buckles against the cold metal shackles. He watches Eames struggle in vain as he's stripped of his jacket and gun and dragged into the same cell as he was trapped in.

"Put him in!" Shane directs as the two men bodily wrestle Eames down to the ground and then fit his arms into the second set of shackles so that he was trapped much like Arthur but in a seated position. "I am going to go and take care of Garth. Se…"

"NO!" Arthur shouts as Shane's head snaps to the right.

"I'd gag you little brother because I genuinely am tired of hearing your voice, but when I come back both of you will be dead...both of you, so I'll be charitable enough to let the two of you spend your last few moments blaming the other for your rather tight predicament and then saying goodbye."

"Leave Garth out of this!" Arthur shouts as Shane offers him a rough slap on his scuffed cheek before he turns and heads out of the cell, the two large bodyguards following and the newly recovered Rocco once again standing guard. "Shane!"

"Be back soon boys."

"SHANE!"

"Don't waste your breath darling, he's not listening and somehow I gather reasoning with that Neanderthal out there would be a complete waste of time."

"Watch it!" Rocco warns.

"Or what?"

"Eames," Arthur groans with a heavy sigh as Eames looks up at him with a small frown. "Not...right now."

"Very well. Anything broken?"

"Probably," Arthur replies with a small wince. "You?"

"My bloody phone. Damn shame too, I kinda liked this one."

"Why are you here Eames?"

"Is that rhetorical?" Eames fires back.

"No. Why _are_ you here?"

"Well first off you missed our first drink meeting and while I don't mind having the bottle of scotch all to myself my own stories are rather boring. I called but you didn't answer. Then I met with Cobb and he told me…"

"What?" Arthur interjects sharply.

"No need to take offense," Eames counters. "I am not going to offer an _I told you so_ because I think you can see that for yourself, but really…why did you come here without backup?"

"Was hoping there was at least someone in my family who was at least a little bit honorable."

"A simple text would have sufficed," Eames suggests.

"You would have found a way to shackle me to the floor in my apartment," Arthur lightly huffs before his lips emit a soft wince.

"Ah tempting," Eames snickers before his expression turns serious at Arthur's visible wince of pain.

"Nothing's…broken."

"You sure?"

"Wrist maybe? Maybe a few ribs? It doesn't matter. How's Garth? Eames was really as bad as you say?"

"Worse mate. They worked him over pretty good. Brave fellow though. He never gave in. Won't matter much now if Shane is allowed to get close and kill him."

"You said a cop was there? Maybe the can help?"

"Don't get too excited, I'm sure she's already helped dispose of the body by now."

"She? And you couldn't charm her?" Arthur lightly growls.

"After I saw his condition, charming a Lady cop wasn't on the agenda. I hope Shane is stopped or something..."

"Yeah me too. Damn it Eames…that was my money Shane took from him. I offered…I offered him the money but he…he said it wasn't just about the money but he's too much like Ean. He loves the power and position also. You should see his home…his car…his lifestyle."

"Envious?"

"Yes and before you ask I was slightly tempted. But then I saw first hand how he maintains his lifestyle and I was done. I was all prepared to get on the plane back to Paris when I overheard Shane threatening Garth. I couldn't let that happen. Garth only ever mentioned financial trouble when we talked, he never told me the source and I respected that. But him suddenly having that large sum of money was my fault," Arthur rambles on in a weary tone. "My fault he's like that."

"He could have paid the money and you know it. He's like that because he has character and isn't afraid to stand up to worthless men like Shane Franchetti!" Eames voice finishes in a louder pitch as he turns and glares at Rocco. "You hear me big man?"

"Eames," Arthur mutters under his breath.

"If I come in there you will be sorry."

"I think you're full of piss and wind."

"He's delusional," Arthur groans. "Eames…shut up."

"Oh come now darling, he's too stupid to make his own decisions. Tell me do you need Shane to tell you when to jerk it off also. What about it mate you wanna share some details now?"

"Eames..."

"One more word out of you and I have permission to take it out on him," Rocco glares at Eames who merely purses his lips. He had wanted to get Rocco close enough to at least try to take him out but if his actions only earned Arthur a further beating that wasn't fair.

"He's done. You're done," Arthur tells Eames firmly.

"Oh darling this assertive side of you is very charming but I could have taken him."

"Funny," Arthur huffs as he tries to straighten up. But his lips offer another tormented gasp as he tries and his body sags back down; Eames watching in concern. "Garth tell you I was here?"

"He did. But I had to break into your apartment to even know to come to America in the first place. Figured that was okay after the call and rather odd text."

"You knew the text wasn't me," Arthur states more than questions.

"The reply was too…normal. Figured if you were here living the high life you would have found a way to gloat or brag, not giving me a way or reason to offer my _I told you so _and thus leaving me quite disappointed."

"Well I'm glad you figured it out. So you found all my notes then? About my mother? And her side of the family?"

"Very enlightening."

"I had to know Eames."

"You know for a split second I had almost thought your family would be tied to that ivory handled piece you bought in the pawn shop a few weeks back."

"I think I'm officially discouraged from investigating any more family history; even if it belongs to a gun."

"Oh come now darling, think of all the people that could have touched that ivory handle."

"I'll pass. You didn't call for backup on the way over by chance?"

"Didn't know who to trust. This is your neighbourhood not mine."

"Not mine either, it's Shane's," Arthur grumbles. "I don't belong here. I just…wanted to know who else was out there. Now I just want to go home and never come back."

"You helped Garth fight back," Eames reminds Arthur with a small wince of his own. "He stood up to Shane because of you…"

"He nearly died because I interfered!" Arthur hisses with an angry gasp. "If I hadn't interfered he would have paid the damn money…and been okay," Arthur resigns in misery.

"And all those innocent boys like Miles and Allen and the others would be pushed back into the system or worse."

"Yeah growing up on the streets," Arthur is forced to acknowledge. "I still feel responsible. I just want to go home and change my name."

"Lots of room on the Eames family tree," Eames snickers as both quickly stop as they hear a phone ringing.

"Arthur Eames?" Arthur shakes his head as Eames grins.

"Your fairy god-mother eh mate?" Eames calls out to Rocco.

"You two will be laughing out of the other sides of your faces when the boss gets back here to finish you off!" Rocco tosses back. "He just capped that Garth fellow. Two you is next."

"Are," Arthur growls through gritted teeth, earning a small eye roll from Eames.

"What?"

"It's ARE next you uneducated Neanderthal!"

"What's that?" Rocco asks angrily as he takes a few steps toward them.

"Arthur," Eames warns in a low tone, knowing that in Arthur's condition he couldn't take another round without being able to defend himself and he with his own wrists firmly caught in the iron shackles he wasn't worth a damn. "He's picky about proper speech."

"Well tell him to shut it."

"You tell me."

"What did you just say?" Rocco glares at Arthur.

"You heard me or do you also need a hearing aid?"

"It's Neanderthal darling...don't forget that."

"Oh right. Do you need a hearing aid _Neanderthal?"_

"I'll show you Neanderthal!" Rocco growls as he offers a stiff blow to Arthur's already bruised jaw, snapping his head back against the cold stone wall.

"Oh stop it you daft prick!" Eames shouts as he tries to pull himself free.

"That the best…you can do…dumb ass," Arthur goads as Rocco prepares to hit him again; Eames gritting his teeth as he tries in vain to pull himself free.

"The next one will break your jaw. Shut you up for good!"

"Try it!"

"Arthur!" Eames snaps as he watches Rocco's fist ball and prepare to strike. But just before he does the three of them hear an angry voice heading toward them; a few seconds later the heavy door being pulled open and Shane's menacing expression stepping out from the shadows.

"I see the party's just getting started," Shane mentions as he nears the cell, Rocco stepping to the side to let him enter; one bodyguard by the door and one at the top of the stairs. "In a few hours this place will be opening for the day and I really need my beauty sleep. So…"

"Is Garth really dead?" Arthur demands angrily.

"Two shots to the chest. Didn't put up that much of a fuss either," Shane replies with a mock frown. "But now…" Shane pauses as he pulls out Arthur's gun and waves it in front of his face; Eames frame starting to squirm against his restraints. "Now…who do I finish off first? My newly found and soon to be recently departed little brother? Or his poorly dressed fairy god-mother?"

"Poorly dressed? This shirt is new," Eames retorts in sarcasm.

"Fight me."

"What?" Shane asks with almost a wide grin.

"You heard me. Fight me like you did Garth. Or do you only fight old men that can't fight back?" Arthur goads as Shane leans in closer. He grabs Arthur's badly sprained wrist and starts to push is back.

"You mean like this?"

"AHHHHHHH!" Arthur yells as fresh pains resonate from his wrist and start to tickle his spine. _Don't give up! _Arthur hears Garth telling him. So he takes a deep breath, tosses his head forward, slamming his into Shane's and forcing Shane's to snap backward. "FIGHT...ME!" Arthur yells with a ragged gasp, as Eames tries to get his legs tangled with Shane's and at least get him tangled and stall for time. But stall for what? Help? What help?

Shane's fingers grab Arthur's jaw and give it a firm squeeze, hindering Arthur's speech; Shane pressing the end of the gun into Arthur's cheek and cocking the trigger.

"NO!" Eames shouts as he violently struggles against his restraints. "Shane…don't…"

"I am not going to ask you to beg me for your life because I know much like myself you wouldn't give me the satisfaction. So I'm just going to pull the trigger, decorate the wall with your blood and go have breakfast!"

"I…wa…" Arthur tries as Shane's fingers keep his jaw fixed in place, not letting Arthur jerk his head free. He finally lets go and steps back, pushes his gun against Arthur's forehead and prepares to fie.

"Any last words brother?"

"Go…to hell," Arthur manages in a clipped tone.

"You first."

But time seems to slow just as Shane readies his shot. His finger eases back on the trigger at the same time a soft 'thud' is heard; seconds later the door busts open and someone comes into view.

***bang***

Shane's lips utter a cry as his body starts to falter. His left hand instantly cradling the right arm that was shot, the gun clattering to the floor a few seconds later. He drops to his knees and both Arthur and Eames look up to see the last person they expected standing a few feet away with a raised gun.

"You?"

* * *

**A/N:** hmm so who showed up to help our boys? Thoughts? Is it really over? Is this person good? Or bad? Please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	22. Thicker than Blood

**Title: Betrayed  
****Chapter 22 – Thicker than Blood**

* * *

"You," Eames states more than questions as both he and Arthur stare at the female cop in utter shock.

"Happy to see me?" She offers in sarcasm.

"Depends on whose side you're on."

"That would be kinda obvious," she retorts. "What's that phrase you Brits like? Saving your arse. That's why I'm here."

"In that case I'm relieved to see you."

"You know her?" Arthur asks weakly as two other uniformed officers rush in to take care of Rocco and then Shane.

"You haven't seen the last of me little brother!" Shane hisses as he tries to kick at Arthur's still trapped frame.

"He has for a little while. You're under arrest Franchetti for kidnapping, assault and attempted murder and that's just the start," the female officer leans in close and sneers. "We have eye witness accounts of the assault and the murder. The second time you came back we were ready. You took care of business there and then came back here. Thanks for giving me a slam dunk case."

"Enjoy it while you can sweetheart. I'll have your badge within the hour," Shane growls before he emits an angry curse just as his mangled hand is mistreated by one of the officers.

"You'll be making new friends in an hour; ones loyal to me, not you! Get him out of here!"

"Shane!"

"What?"

"That building now belongs to me. You tell your father to leave that one alone or there will be more trouble than you can imagine."

"Choke on it little brother."

"What's that saying you're so fond of? Oh yeah…that's my only warning," Arthur finishes with an angry hiss before Shane's hauled out of the room for good.

Arthur watches as the female cop slowly heads toward him with a small tool. His dark eyes watch her intently as she works in silence, offering a soft 'thanks' when his wrists finally fall free. He cradles his throbbing right wrist in his left; his brain ordering his legs not to buckle and to hold him up for a few moments longer until they could get upstairs and out of view.

"Thanks love," Eames mutters as he pulls himself up from the ground and fixes his disheveled shirt. "Never got your name?"

"Cassidy Shields. You boys need a ride to the station?"

"No. We'll give our statements here and then we're going," Arthur replies firmly as Eames offers a small shrug in compliance.

"He always this stubborn?" Cassidy looks at Eames.

"More," Eames looks at Arthur with a teasing smile as Arthur's jaw sets firmly.

"Is Garth Wilson really dead?"

"No. Shane's never let anyone live to testify against him so we were ready. We put a vest under his gown and recorded the whole incident. He won't have to testify if he doesn't want to. We offered him WitSec but he said he can't leave his boys so he's going to change his name and shave his head and stay," Cassidy gently smirks. "Stubborn old man."

"Sound familiar?" Eames whispers in Arthur's ear.

"Is he the only one you have?"

"No the two fishermen gladly turned on Franchetti for the attempted murder rap and the chance to start over. Plus an insider came forward offering us a few extra goodies on Shane Francetti to put him away for a very long time. We have enough. Garth asked about you."

"I'd like to see him. Are we done here?"

"Yeah. Get yourselves cleaned up."

"That's the plan," Eames pipes up in a low tone as Cassidy finishes up with their statements and then nods to her partner.

"You boys sure you don't need a ride anywhere?"

"We're good. Thanks again," Arthur manages with a heavy frown as they both watch the attractive dark haired officer turn to her partner and the two of them leave the now quiet dungeon. A few seconds later Eames pulls back and starts to examine Arthur's appearance. "You know I should be mad at you right?"

"Wouldn't be you if you weren't," Eames slightly smirks as he looks at Arthur's cradled wrist. "You need to get that wrapped."

"Think Garth is really alive?"

"I don't know what to think," Eames huffs as he leads Arthur outside of the cell, picks up both their guns and hands Arthur his. "I thought Garth was a gonner as soon as I saw her standing at the end of his bed in the hospital room. Figured she was on the take as so many of them are. I saw your notes about the dirty cops. Still not sure she's not just doing this all for show."

"Why do you think I wanted to wait? Unlike you."

"What?"

"Falling all over her."

"Jealous?" Eames tosses back as the two of them slowly climb the stairs; both weary and just wanting to collapse.

"You asked for her number?" Arthur inquires.

"Maybe she offered it willingly," Eames chuckles as the reach the top. Arthur finally feels the adrenaline completely dissipate, his brain sending out a panicked cry that his legs were about to get way. And that's exactly what happens as soon as the last officer leaves the restaurant. "Arthur!" Eames exclaims as his arms automatically shoot out and grab onto Arthur's elbows as his knees finally buckle from sheer exhaustion and being forced to stand for the past several hours after a merciless beating.

"Just rest a moment here," Eames tells Arthur as he helps Arthur ease himself down into a nearby chair.

"I know I look like hell but…Eames?" Arthur asks with a small stammer as he watches Eames get up and head toward the back of the staff quarters. "I'm coming…"

"Don't make me cuff you darling…wait there," Eames pops his head around the corner and winks, earning an eye roll from Arthur before he disappears from view and then comes back a few minutes later with a small first aid kit in his hand. "You want to see Garth looking your best right?"

"Is there a new shirt in there for me?"

"Unfortunately no, but there is a black coat in the closet there you could use. Now let's see that wrist," Eames gets busy wrapping Arthur's sprained wrist with the tensor bandage as Arthur's free hand tries to wipe some of the dried blood from around his nose and mouth.

"Oww," Arthur grumbles in a soft voice as Eames snatches the damp cloth from his grasp. "I got this!"

"Bloody hell give that to me," Eames growls as he takes the cloth back and Arthur slumps back in the chair.

"I wanted Shane to be…normal," Arthur admits as he looks back at the door leading down to the dungeon. "I shouldn't have expected that much from someone raised by a mob father but still…I was kinda hoping to have a normal family member."

"Family doesn't have to be bonded by only blood," Eames remarks quietly.

"Water is thicker than blood?"

"Well _I'm_ not trying to kill you."

"Not yet," Arthur gently smirks as Eames finishes wrapping the bandage around his hand and then starts to gently clean the rest of the dried blood away from Arthur's mouth and nose. "Now I just want to see Garth…get on that plane and get the hell outta here."

"Think I could convince you to fly out in the morning?" Eames asks with a small yawn as they both slowly stand up; Arthur merely nodding in compliance. "Then I can say I told you so."

"That's all?"

"Well you have earned a trip over my knee," Eames huffs as Arthur chuckles and shakes his head. He slowly pulls on the forgotten black woolen car coat as both of them head for the front door and then outside into the dark, early morning air. "I need a drink."

Arthur offers Eames a small smile as they both head toward the main street and then hail a cab, Officer Cassidy Shields and her partner watching from the shadows a few car lengths down.

"Think they'll actually go back to Paris?"

"If they know what's good for them they will," Cassidy remarks as her eyes rest on Arthur before he disappears into the back of the cab. "But with the old man here and both defying the devil to help the other I doubt it," she huffs as she pulls out her iPad.

"You think you'll see them again?"

"I hope so," Cassidy whispers as she prepares to type.

"You're entering your field notes here?"

"I just need to start this entry."

"This arrest…should make you detective right?"

"That's…what I'm hoping for," she replies as she types in her User ID '17375' and then stares at two choices – one marked standard and the other marked confidential. She presses confidential, types in a few notes adds the name Arthur Collins/White/Franchetti and then closes the screen. "Come on Chris, I'll buy you a coffee."

XXXXXXXX

"Arthur, thank god," Doug exclaims as he embraces Arthur and then pulls back with a strained expression, offering his hand to Eames and shaking it firmly. "He's still asleep but I don't think he'll mind you waking him up. He wanted so desperately to know you are okay."

"I'm okay."

"Your appearance suggests otherwise," Doug lightly remarks as Arthur's face softens. "Have you both been checked over?"

"Sadly there's nothing they can do about our hard heads," Eames quips as he pats Doug on the back. "When's the last time you got some rest mate?"

"I just needed to know you're both okay. You know there's a few clean beds at the house if you want to catch a few hours rest before you fly out in the morning."

"We'll see you there."

Arthur pulls away and slowly opens the curtain to Garth's room; his lips trying to stifle a small gasp.

"You don't look…so hot yourself…young man," Garth lightly croaks as he tries to sit up.

"Shane told me you were dead," Arthur whispers as he offers Garth the best hug he can and then pulls back, Eames hovering a few feet off the end of the bed.

"I would have been. But I got to the point where I decided to play possum, two fisherman intervened at the right time and another quick thinking ploy saved my hide. Second time I got a vest. What happened?"

"Shane's been arrested and we've been told that he's going away. Garth, why didn't you take witness protection? Start fresh?"

"This is my home Arthur. And start fresh where? Alone? Would you?"

"That's not fair," Arthur gently pouts as Garth's hand gently pats his cheek.

"I'm not in business with Shane."

"Garth…"

"No listen. He came to me a few months back trying to extort the funds. When I said no, he…the first time he broke Doug's leg in front of his wife."

"Oh damn."

"The second time he torched the boy's playhouse. And now this was the third. The bank I do business with is loyal to Franchetti and the clerk there told Shane what I had. That's all Arthur I swear to you."

"I believe you. Rest now, I'll be back in the morning okay?"

"You have a good friend there."

"So he reminds me," Arthur lightly smirks as his unbandaged hand gives Garth's a warm squeeze. "Doug's a good friend too."

"If not for him and Jane I would have been doomed long ago."

"Guess we both have friends closer than family."

"Loyalty is stronger than any blood tie Arthur Collins. You remember that."

Arthur gives Garth a last smile before the older man finally sinks back into a turbulent rest; Arthur pulling back and signaling to Eames it was time to leave.

"Let's go home," he whispers as the two of them leave the quiet hospital room, walk past Doug and head outside into the night.

XXXXXXXX

A few hours later Arthur opens his eyes and glares at the clock, his lips uttering a tired groan. Both had left the hospital, arrived at the orphanage and literally collapsed into bed wearing their street clothes. Arthur's mind ponders going back to Shane's to get his personal belongings, visiting Garth and then getting on a plane to go home and staying there. His arms folds under his head at the same time a gentle knock is heard at the door.

"You decent?" Eames voice is heard.

"If I said no, you'd still enter," Arthur snickers as he watches Eames enter freshly dressed. "Thank you for allowing me the privilege of waking up not cuffed."

"Figured after all that you were too tired to run but if you want I can pull them out again for old times sake."

"Try and I really _will_ kill you," Arthur huffs as he shakes his head at Eames wide grin; waving his gun from under his pillow in the air.

"Oh you wound me love. At least offer a small dare."

"Forget it. Who knows what other devices you have in your pockets," he groans as Eames offers a heartfelt laugh.

"Amusing but sadly I only have the cuffs on me. Figured I might need them just in case."

"Keep them away from me," Arthur groans as he slowly sits up in bed and rubs his weary face; Eames easing himself down into a nearby easy chair. "Do you petition the makers of paisley shirts to send you every one they make?"

"This is vintage," Eames replies with a mock hurt tone. "I see you recovered."

"I knew Garth wasn't on the take," Arthur starts slowly, "but after I saw him lying like that in the hospital bed…damn part of me just wished I was alone in a room with Shane. Give him a taste of his own medicine."

"He'll get that in the joint."

"Garth should had given him the damn money and been done with it. I would have given him more. But I know…I know it wouldn't have ended with that. I had to end it," Arthur's voice ends in a soft whisper.

"Did you really buy the building?"

"Garth transferred the deed just before he went to see Shane. Damn if he only stayed away."

"Would you have?"

"That's rhetorical right?" Arthur tosses in sarcasm.

"So what's the plan for today?"

"I uh…" Arthur pauses as his ears pick up the soft laughter coming from two boys in the hall just outside their door. "Miles and Allen. I'm glad they have each other."

"Kinda like us," Eames interjects as Arthur's dark gaze turns, locks with Eames sapphire gaze for a few seconds before he nods in agreement.

"I want to see Garth and then I'm going to get in a cab and head for Siggy's and curl up in the booth in the back. I owe a friend a drink."

"Ah now that sounds like a great plan," Eames grins before his expression turns serious. "Not in a hurry to get back home?"

"Home," Arthur states flatly as his brow furrows. He looks down at his bandaged wrist and then up at Eames with a somewhat defeated expression. "Nothing," he finally chooses as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and takes a deep breath. "I feel like hell."

"Rest up as long as you want. After I blew off Cobb two days ago I'm surprised if I'll get another call."

"He'll call," Arthur smirks. "Good help is hard to find. What did you tell him?"

"Texted him last night and said I was checking up on you and everything was okay now."

"That'll put his mind at ease," Arthur groans as he slowly gets up and then heads toward the bathroom. "Ah damn...my stuff's still at Shane's. Feel like taking a ride?"

"Lead the way."

The two of them quietly slip out of the orphanage, get into a cab and head toward Shane's police protected mansion; the conversation kept to neutral topics only.

"Nice flat," Eames mutters as they head up toward the front entrance. Escorted by the uniformed officer, Arthur heads into the spare bedroom, collects his things and then asks the officer if it would be okay that he use the bathroom to freshen up.

"I swear darling you're the only one that could actually make the five minute shower work and come out looking…" Eames snickers as Arthur emerges about twenty minutes later freshly groomed. "Impeccable as usual."

"You sound surprised," Arthur tosses back as he holds up his wrist for Eames to re-bandage. Arthur's eyes aimlessly wander back to the house he had so readily entered over a week ago; his mind recalling the first night he spent in the opulent surroundings, feeling a bit out of place and uneasy. It wasn't his life but he at that time was still interested to learn more. Now that Shane was behind bars, he wanted nothing more than to go home and forget Shane altogether; he had learned enough. While he knows it would be impossible to just forget Shane, with him now behind bars, he can focus his time and energy on helping put some programs into place for the boy's orphanage and concentrate on what really matters – work and close friends.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Arthur nods as they slowly head back toward the street, each carrying their small suitcase in hand and talking about the surprising events of the past few days; Arthur filling in the gaps with places Shane took him to and some of the other people he had met – like Cindy.

"Doug's going to take you home to rest and I hope you'll do just that."

"I can't thank you enough for all your help dear boy," Garth smiles as he and Arthur share a few private moments; Eames and Doug talking a few meters away. "But you didn't have to buy the building, we would have managed."

"Actually it worked out better this way," Arthur replies in truth. "I warned Shane and as long as the deed is in my name, held at a bank not loyal to him, he knows he can't touch it. Besides I know a good investment when I see one," Arthur smiles warmly. "I'll miss you Garth," he says as he offers him a warm hug.

"I do hope that despite all this you'll come back and visit," Garth entreats warmly.

"I have to protect my investment right?" Arthur answers with a nod. "You'll see me again. Maybe next summer for the annual picnic."

"I'd like that. Take care Arthur."

"You too," Arthur whispers as they embrace warmly for a few seconds and then pull back with warm smiles. "I'll email as soon as I'm home. I want to keep in touch this time. I'm tired of running from my past."

"It's who you are and what gives you strength. I'll look forward to our chats."

The two of them rejoin Doug and Eames, the four of them talking a few extra minutes before they all head outside; Doug helping Garth toward his car and Arthur and Eames heading for the stop to wait for a cab.

"Home or bar?"

"Home…home is waiting. Bar," Arthur looks at Eames with a small smile. "I need that drink. Is that okay?"

"Ah more than okay," Eames grins as he hails a cab and both stow their stuff in the trunk and get in. Arthur's gaze fixes on Doug's car, his hand offering a brief wave before it disappears from their view and he settles back into his seat. Silence fills the cab for the duration of the ride to the cozy pub; neither seeming to mind the silence.

"You know when I found all the empty bottles and the rather distressing notes with…certain words I was worried," Eames mentions as they settle into the back corner booth; the same one they had used last time and the same one they would in the future.

"My mother left a letter in the safety deposit box and I just…damn Eames she never told me…didn't even hint…not even once. All those years I had a sibling in the same city and I never knew."

"Probably for the best or you would have turned out like him; squeezing Garth for a few extra dollars. Hurting innocent people for no good reason."

"I know," Arthur sighs as he leans back in his chair. "I wanted to feel betrayed by her but…but she did what she felt was best to keep me safe and after reading that letter I understand. But yes I was more than angry when I learned the truth. When you found what you wanted that led you here did you at least put everything _back _in place?"

"Nothing was _in _place," Eames retorts as Arthur's jaw tightens. "Your place looked like…well it looked like mine actually."

"You say that like it's a good thing," Arthur deadpans in a dry tone as their drinks finally arrive.

"It's a very good thing," Eames grins as he reaches for his glass. "A toast shall we."

"Sure, to what?" Arthur inquires as he takes his glass in his hand, ready to raise it.

"To loyalty and friendship; two bonds stronger than blood."

"I'll drink to that," Arthur smiles and nods before the two glass rims clink and then a drink is taken from each. "Ahh now this…is good stuff."

"Speaking of the good stuff. How on earth did you manage to drink that much imported swill?"

"Okay what else did you do in my apartment?" Arthur asks in mild annoyance as Eames chuckles.

"Tided up a bit."

"Should I be afraid?"

"Very."

"Perfect," Arthur sighs as he leans back in the booth; his eyes offering a faraway glance before he turns back and connects with Eames. "A few months ago I went about my day, knowing my parents were normal people killed in a car accident and I was raised in an orphanage and just jaded because the world had forgotten me. Now…" he pauses as he shakes his head, "now I wish I could go back and just forget this all happened. But I know I can't and so the practical side of me says to accept it and use the knowledge to protect myself from this day forward. Now I have to watch my back around every turn."

"Move to Mombassa. At least you won't have to watch it alone."

"I don't like sand. It gets in all the cracks," he snickers as Eames lips offer a small chuckle. "What doesn't kill you…" he pauses as he offers his glass.

"Only makes you stronger," Eames concludes with a soft whisper as his glass gently clinks Arthur's and then both take another sip. "And you are that."

"I am," Arthur agrees as he reaches for his menu. "Time to order."

As his eyes scan the culinary offerings his mind drifts back to the first time Garth had told him the truth about what happened. How he had his showdown with Cecil and Bryan and when one door to the past was closed for good another to the future was opened. Ean White had certainly made his mark, but before his death he had offered valuable insight into another part of Arthur's heritage, one he couldn't turn his back on or walk away from. He had allowed anger and hatred to fester those few weeks in his apartment; sitting alone with a bottle and thinking about all those who had betrayed him but coming to the conclusion that through it all he had remained true to himself and in the end that's all that really mattered. He looks at Eames and ponders his friend; once merely a passing irritation, now a loyal stronghold helping him weather all the familial battles forced upon him; a friendship he vows to never take for granted. And he knows that the true friendship and loyalty that Eames offered him in his dire time of need he would gladly return the favor; helping his friend weather whatever personal storm he might face in the future. And there were still a few storms yet to come. He knows that he hasn't uncovered all the secrets in his family vault; there was still an insider to uncover and Shane wasn't gone from his life for good _yet_. While the chapter to one story was coming to a close, he knows – they both know – there were others waiting to be opened.

"Let's eat."

**THE END!**

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so am leaving it here for now….wow what a wild ride. Endings are always bittersweet for me *sigh* I was soooooooooooooo nervous when I decided to post my first inception piece and even more nervous when I decided to do the redo and make it from 5 chaps to well – 22 – lol and I'm so glad you all stayed with me on this topsy turvy ride and gave me the amazing reviews you did! (they kept me expanding this this long)! I wasn't sure to make this one very long story but I have a few other ideas and coming back to Arthur's lineage (did you all catch the clue to yet another family member – this one actually maybe good? check chapter 18 for the first mention and then the matching clue in this chap that confirmed it) is one of them and I hope you all like that idea! So please let me know what you thought of this story in a final review (especially those that faved/followed but didn't review – a word to show your appreciation would be very nice) and if you'd like another story (I have an idea or two brewing for our boys) and thanks so much!


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